


Shattered

by August_Ghostwriter



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: A soul in need of healing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, PTSD, Past Relationship(s), Pretty much everyone in Gotham will be in this, sloooooooooow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-12-24 13:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 63,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/August_Ghostwriter/pseuds/August_Ghostwriter
Summary: After Tim’s death, Stephanie has tried to do something more with her life. Away from Batman and the team. But when people under her care go missing, she has no choice but to return.Hoping to solve this mystery with what remains of her tattered heart in tact, Stephanie makes her way back to Wayne Manor. But she isn’t the only one hurting, changed from the loss of Red Robin.





	1. A Gaping Hole

**Author's Note:**

> My first try in messing with the Batman universe. I’m serious, I’m putting a lot into a blender to come up with this version. So it’s very AU. Please enjoy!

Prologue 

“Steph . . . Can you hear me?”

“I’m almost there Tim . . . I’m almost. . .” Stephanie’s voice is breathless. Her heart pounding. Everything will be ok. It’s always ok. They always pull through.

“Steph, listen, these last few months have been incredible. You have helped me discover exactly what I wanted to do with my life. The kind of man I would be.” Shut up. Shut up! Don’t talk like that. Stephanie tries to remember her training. Deep breaths. Push down the panic, the fear. Panicking can get someone . . . Killed.

“I wish I could be there for you.” His voice was so soft she almost doesn’t hear it.

“Tim. . .don’t hang up, stay with me!” 

“I love you Steph . . .Goodbye.”

The click of his mic is drowned out by Stephanie’s screams. Those are drowned out by the explosion on top of The Belfry.

Everything is not ok.

Chapter One  
A Gaping Hole

Five Years Later

“So, you’re not actually a doctor?” Jeff, a man of 34, homeless and an recovering addict, eyes Stephanie suspiciously. His fingers tap rapidly on the armrest of his chair. They sit in a small office that really is nothing more than a converted storage space. And sometimes it is still a storage space.

“No, I haven’t gotten my doctrine yet in psychology. . .” And if she’s honest, she never will. “However I do have a bachelors in psychology and I am board certified.” She points her pen towards the framed documents hanging up. Jeff cranks his neck to look at them, exposing a tattoo of a flaming eyeball on his neck.

“But don’t you have to be a doctor to do this?” He says as he turns back to her.

“Apparently not.” She sighs. “Since I am here. Talking to you. Now look you wanted to talk to me.”

“I wanted to talk to a professional!” One deep breath. He’s agitated. Eyes aren’t dilated so it’s not from drugs. And his skin looks normal, besides being a bit pale. The fidgeting is from fear. Something has this man scared.

“I am here to help you. You came here for help.” Here being Open Doors. A halfway house for those abandoned by society. The place offers beds, food, clothing and counseling. Sometimes they even hold job fairs. It’s hard work with little pay, she has to take a second job. But it is making a difference. Many people have gotten clean and sober and remained that way. Stephanie feels she’s done more to help Gotham in this one year than her total time as Spoiler.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if you’d believe me. This is big. Really big.”

“How big?”

He pushes back into his chair opens his mouth several time as he stretches his arms out wide.

“Wayne big.” Jeff finally manages to say. He lets out a deep, shaky breath.

“You mean what exactly? You know something about the Wayne’s?” After Tim’s death Stephanie purposefully kept her distance. Even from Cass. Something she regrets.

“People are disappearing. They go in and then they’ll be gone. Poof! No one will do anything. I went to the police but they turned me away. Homeless can’t go missing cause they’re home-less. That’s what they said! But really, it’s cause of the Wayne’s. Cops won’t touch them. They’re untouchable!”

“Jeff . . .”

“I might be next! So I gotta tell someone who has the smarts to do something. Before I’m taken. Cause I’m sure the police work for the Wayne’s.”

“Why don’t you take a few deep breaths.” He does and calms a little bit down. “I want to hear this. Hear everything, starting from the top.”

Jeff does exactly that. It’s a long tail that involves missing homeless, cults, government cover ups, blood ceremonies and all of which is happening under the roof of The Martha Wayne Memorial Clinic. It’s a well known free health clinic. 

“So you are saying several of your friends have used this clinic, got blood work done and now are missing?”

“You don’t believe me! Of course you don’t.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m trying to understand what might have happened.”

“Might have! I know my friends, we would do the same thing everyday. Then BAM!” He slaps his hands together. “They’re gone. The same thing everyday until they got blood work done. That’s the only explanation.”

“Give me their names. I’ll see what I can find.” Jeff lists off three names, the last catching her attention. “Maryanne? Maryanne Jones?”

“Yeah, The Spoon Lady. She’s missing. You know her?” Stephanie does. Maryanne is one of the many homeless she does wellness checks on. The woman suffers from schizophrenia and only rubbing the face of a spoon seems to calm her. Hence the nickname, The Spoon Lady.

“I saw her three days ago. She seemed well.”

“Yeah, well she’s gone. I’ve checked all her haunts.” That is troubling. Maryanne only stays in one of three locations. And she was crippled, she wouldn’t be able to leave the city on her own.

“Thank you Jeff for telling me. I’ll see if I can find them.”

“Don’t do that! They’ll just come after you! You got to find a way to tell Bats! He’ll find them.” Stephanie pushes down her anger at his suggestion. Memories of an empty casket flash in her mind, her pen almost snaps in her grip.

“Batman isn’t always the answer.” She pats herself on the back for managing to say that calmly and not through clenched teeth. He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off. “But I’ll do my best. Ok?” Jeff doesn’t seem placated but the color is returning to his face. She walks him to his room and asks him to get some rest. Before she leaves he tells her he’ll pray for her. And asks her to feed his dog if he’s taken.

Said dog is sleeping in a homemade bed, belly up as it soaks up the sun. She smiles at the simple life of a dog.

Stephanie agrees and walks to the front desk. Christopher is manning it, a fellow graduate from Gotham University. He starts to smile at seeing her but quickly looks worried.

“Oh boy, I know that face. What happened?”

“I need you to check these two names for me. See if we’ve housed them before.” 

“I don’t recognize the first two but I’ll see what the database has. If I can get it working, it’s down again.”

“Of course it is, let me know what you find as soon as you do.”

“Everything ok? I see Maryanne on here.”

“Jeff thinks these people are missing.” Stephanie pulls her purse from behind the desk. “And in this city? That could mean many things. If Mr. Woodstone needs me, I’ll be out looking for Maryanne.”

“Is that safe? To do on your own?”

She flashes him a grin as she walks out the door. “I’ve taken a few self defense lessons.”

The walk to the first location didn’t take long. The spot is on a strip of road known for the scattering of tents. The smell is something she’ll never get used to. But it just makes her more determined to help.

Her eyes scan the tents, looking for Maryanne’s. She finds the pink and white flowered tent in its normal spot. Getting closer, Stephanie taps on its roof. “Maryanne?” The tent moves as Maryanne peels open the tent flap. But the face that greets her isn’t who she had hope to see.

“Stephanie! Hey, uh, Maryanne left this here tent unoccupied for more than a day. You know the rules!”

“Devon, where is Maryanne?” He snaps his toothless mouth a few time before answering.

“I honestly don’t know. Jeff’s all worried. But I don’t think anyone would do anything to her.” He leans to the side to show Stephanie the contents of the tent. “She doesn’t have anything of worth. Just lots of spoons.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Don’t recall.” Devon rubs his chin. His eyes stay on her’s and his voice is even. He’s telling the truth.

“Thanks, I’ll try her other spots.” Devon waves her off as he goes back into the tent. Stephanie takes half a step before halting. “You ever go to the Martha Wayne clinic?”

Devon pops his head back out. “Nope. They are too damn pushy on that blood work. I hear it’s so they can bug you. No thank you!”

“Right. Say Devon?” He nods at her. “That’s Maryanne’s stuff, keep it safe for her.”

“Will do!”

Her second stop is just as fruitless. No one has seen her and her spot is now occupied by someone else. The only difference here is that some homeless have used the clinic with no issues. There were a few who heard horrible things about that place, all sounded familiar. Jeff either heard these same stories or is the one spreading them.

Either way, no Maryanne.

The final stop is a burnt out warehouse. Stephanie surveys the hollowed shell with trepidation. The building was condemned after it was the place of a fight between Batman and the Scarecrow. Now it severs as a reminder of how harmful Batman’s ideals are. 

Scarecrow was captured. But this area will forever be scarred.

“Maryanne?” Stephanie calls out into the building. No reply. Not many stay here. Maybe only Maryanne. If she was taken, this would be the ideal place. It’s isolated, it’s away from prying eyes and not many security cameras.

Stephanie picks up a brick for protection as she slowly walks to Maryanne’s usual spot. The building is dark, charred from the chemical fire. Even with parts of the roof gone and windows blown out, the sunlight can barely make a dent.

Why would Maryanne even stay here? She would complain about the voices she would hear, all the voices she would say. Did this place help her block them out?

Stephanie gets to the makeshift shelter of Maryanne.

It’s torn apart. 

Dark stains on the cardboard and blankets. Blood, she’s sure of it. Stephanie recognizes those type of splatters. There was a fight. And it was violent. The cane Maryanne uses lays broken on the floor and off to the side is a bent spoon.

Stephanie kneels down to get a closer look. “Oh Maryanne. What happened here?”

Stepping back she surveys the area again. It’s pointless. She doesn’t have the tools on her to properly investigate the area. Heck, she doesn’t have tools at home, having turned over every gadget to Bruce.

She could leave it up to the police. But Stephanie has a sinking feeling they wouldn’t care about a missing homeless woman. No matter how bloody the scene is. Gotham has too many threats that require attention.

Which means if she wants to solve this, she’ll need to go back. Back to the place that left her with a gaping hole in her heart.

“Hope Bruce will listen. Or even let me in through the front gate.”

Only one way to find out.


	2. Dragged Back

The Wayne Manor once fascinated Stephanie. Which is reasonable since she grew up in small apartments with no real privacy. Her bedroom would always be tiny where only a twin mattress could fit. In the living room would sit her dresser. A beat up couch, found abandoned on a street corner, was were she would eat her meals. To someone who knew nothing else, seeing the stately manor was like walking into a fairytale.

But now? Now it just seems like a brooding, overbearing mass. And judgmental. That manor judges all who enter. Granted, her feelings are slightly jaded. Tainted by her experience with the manor’s owner.

Slowly she pulls her car up, beat up frame a stark contrast to the gothic manor. This doesn’t bother Stephanie. She never felt she belonged here. Or welcomed. She knows it was because of a Tim that Bruce even bothered with her.

No. That’s not true. Bruce is many things. And he did use her to force Tim back by making her Robin. But he wasn’t completely cold to her. He did reach out to her after Tim died. Even going to her first after the attack. 

He hugged her. It was a balm to her broken heart. She could feel his pain, it was just as palpable as her own. However it wasn’t enough to temper her words. She pushed back at him, reject his apologies. A dark part of her enjoyed the anguish that bloomed across his face as he read Tim’s acceptance letter from Ivy University. 

Shame fills her as she remembers the harsh words, the blame she heaped on him. All the while he just stood there and took it. With each jab she made, she hoped he would push back at her, yell even. Anything to give her an excuse to fight him. He never did anything. Said no words as the acceptance letter hanged loosely in his hands.

Stephanie was convinced he would have let her punch him. But it all would have felt hallow if he didn’t fight back. So she yelled until her voice gave out and her body crumpled to the floor from exhaustion. Bruce said nothing. His eyes just watched her and shame started to creep into her fevered mind. But Bruce was gone when she finally calmed down.

They haven’t spoken since. Not when she came to the cave to return her gadgets. Not even at the funeral.

And so here she is. After five years of silence, she’s back. Asking for help.

Knowing Bruce is well aware of her approach and waiting for her, Stephanie exits her car. The large wooden doors loom before her. With a deep breath she raises a fist to knock. But just as her fist is about to touch down, the door cracks opens. Bruce emerges from the shadow, face twisted in contempt. 

“Brown.” He more or less growls.

“Wayne.” His eyes narrow. “Ahem, Mr. Wayne. Bruce, sir.” Great start there. Really showing him.

“Explain.” With one word, filled with a commanding force, Stephanie blurts out everything. It is an out of body experience. Like watching a bad movie, Stephanie cannot seem to stop rambling. Her mind begging her to stop. 

“And so that’s why I’m here.” The silence between them feels like an eternity. Bruce doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. Just watches her. Anger starts to bubble up within her. 

Then he finally speaks.

“No.” And he slams the door in her face. Stephanie yells obscenities at the door, fist banging on it. It doesn’t budge. Then she hears the sound of dogs barking and it’s getting closer. To her right a pack of guard dogs round the corner. Their target, her.

Stephanie flees to the safety of her car but luck runs out as it stalls. Her car is now surrounded by snarling dogs as Bruce watches from a window. He watches as he sips tea.

Stephanie shakes her head to rid herself of her play through. She sits at a light as she slowly makes her way to the manor. Midday traffic is no joke in Gotham. This allows her mind to wonder and conjure all kinds of fates waiting for her at the manor. 

What is likely to happen is this.

“Good evening Ms. Brown. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Alfred will greet her, letting her in. The foyer will be spotless and empty. “To whom are you here to meet?”

“Bruce, is he in?” 

“I’m afraid not. He’s on a trip to Greece.”

“Ok, is Dick around?”

“Paris, with Barbara.”

“Cass?”

“Off world.”

“Really? Ok, is Kate available?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Jason?” A well trimmed eyebrow raises elegantly. Seriously, he did it elegantly. “Right, dumb question.”

“Master Damian is in but he is currently entertaining guest. Shall I take you to him.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.” She doesn’t want to see Damian. She doubts five years has tempered his snobbery. Or quell his ego.

“Think nothing of it my dear. You are family after all.” Ouch, that hurts. He will then take her to the study where laughter is heard. The doors will open to Damian standing in front of a group of richly dressed guest, furs, jewels and bow ties. Damian holds up for the group a yellow/orange square, flapping it.

“And this, my dear friends, is what they call ‘cheese’.” The group gasps.

“How long do they age it?” A woman draped in diamonds asks.

“Age? This isn’t actual cheese. Not fit for our sophisticated pallets. But it’s the best they can do.”

“Oh those poor souls!” She says as she places a hand on her heart. Well, she would have if all those diamonds were not in the way.

“Would you brave a taste?” Damian pulls back the plastic and offers it to the group. They recoil in disgust, laughing. Damian puts the cheese down, picking up another item.

“Next, let me show you. . .a straw!” A collective gasp fills the room as they move closer to look. 

“Whatever do they use this for?” A man in a top hat inquires as he adjusts his monocle.

“To drink.” Damian pauses for dramatic effect. “Sodas.” Gasp! “And cold. Tea.” One woman faints as others fan themselves.

Ok, ok, it would not even be like that. Stephanie laughs at her version of grownup Damian. She bets he’s still a bratty, pompous ass.

Her fantasies distract her enough from the traffic but she’s now pulling up to the manor. The black gates open as she approaches. A pit grows in her stomach as she parks her car. The manor looks the same. Looming over her with judgement.

Stephanie pushes her dramatics away. Time to get serious. Alfred greets her with a warm smile.

“Ms. Brown, a pleasure to see you again. I hope all is well.” He takes her purse as he closes the door after her. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Bless Alfred.

“No, I haven’t but don’t worry yourself. I hope to not be long.”

“If you’re looking for anyone, only Master Damian is here. Master Grayson is at Wayne Enterprise and should not be back till later. The others are out of town for business.”

Great, she gets to deal with the murder brat.

“I guess Damian is it. Batcave?”

“Naturally.” He makes his way back to the kitchen. “I’ll prepare a supper for you to take home.” Stephanie knew better than to argue with Alfred. She gives him a warm smile and a soft thank you. Shame starts to fill that pit in her stomach.

She really didn’t handle Tim’s death well.

The doors to the Batcave elevator open to a familiar sight. Nothing has changed. Anger colors her thoughts. Did Tim’s death not effect them?

She beats back that unfair thought. Of course it did. Everyone was effected, just in different ways. She’s sure of it. Tim was the brain and the heart of the team.

Stephanie finds Damian sitting in front of the Batcomputer. At least that’s what Stephanie calls it. She just assumes Bruce puts ‘bat’ in front of everything. Batcave, Batmobile, Batcomputer, bat-whatever.

Damian doesn’t turn around to greet her, his form hidden behind the tall chair. What little of him she does see is his fingers steepled together, pointer fingers pressed to his lips. Stephanie knows the pose, a perfect mimic of his father. The only difference is that he has his legs crossed under him.

“Damian?” God, she hopes that isn’t her voice shaking. “Can we talk?”

The chair slowly turns to face her, how is he doing that without his feet? Once facing her, he uncurls his long legs, moving his right ankle to lay on top of his left knee. His arms draped over the armrest, head tilts to the side ever so slightly. Blue eyes piercing. His face, a perfect blend of his parents. Sharp nose, square jaw, perfect lips and high cheekbones.

Dear. God.

Damian grew up. And grew up well. Curse his perfect genetics!  
Her words escape her as her mouth goes dry. Pull yourself together! Think of Maryanne.

That wakes her from her stupor.

“I need some assistance.”

“How much?” Is that is voice now? It’s deep, dark and makes her thoughts turn on her. It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

“How much?!” This is good. Anger is something she knows. It’s a good driving force. Jumping on that she steps closer, jabbing a finger at him. “Look here brat! I’m no ones charity case.”

“Except for the State.” She balls her fists. He really knows how to hit low. “If you’re not looking for money, then what? You made it very clear what you think of our mission here.”

“Mission. Really? More like insanity! You know the definition of insanity?”

“Obviously. I’m not an uncultured illiterate.” Her jaw bings to hurt from from grinding.

“Well, all this!” She waves her hands about. “Is a perfect example of insanity. Every night doing the same thing and nothing changes. Except . . .except.” Except for losing teammates. Losing Tim. Dammit this wasn’t how she wanted to have this conversation.

Damian, for his part, had enough sense to remain quiet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to fight. I came here looking for help. I know that makes me seem like a . . .”

“Hypocrite.” His voice is toneless.

“Yes. But my pride isn’t enough to stop me from reaching out for help.”

“But enough to make you runaway.” He sounds bitter and angry. Guilt slams into her, almost like a physical force.

“Forget it. I’ll wait till Dick gets back. At least he’s not a . . .dick!” With the remains of her dignity, Stephanie turns her back to him. Damian, with speed only learned from brutal training, jumps from his chair and grabs her arm. Stephanie prepares her verbal beatdown but halts when she sees the panic in his eyes.

“Wait! Don’t go.” He looks down at his hand on her arm. The warmth from the contact burns like a brand. But he doesn’t let go, nor is he gripping her tightly. Just holding her. “You came here, despite everything, asking for help. Whatever it is. It must be important to you.” His blue eye search her own.

The sharpness of his voice is gone, replaced by a smooth rumble. Her face suddenly feels hot. 

“It is. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t.” He flinches at that comment and quickly removes his hand. The warmth is missed.

“Tell me what you need.” Damian returns to his seat and waits for her.

With a deep breath, Stephanie begins from the start.

Several Hours Later

Stephanie hums in satisfaction as she finishes off the meal Alfred made for her. Why is that man not married? He is a cooking God!

For what must be the 100th time, Stephanie checks her phone. No new messages. It’s been hours since she left Damian. He agreed to search the scene as Robin and promised to update her. But as the hours tick by, nothing.

“Steph!” Mandy, a fellow waitress, pops into Stephanie’s hiding place. The sudden intrusion almost makes her drop her meal. “What smells good in here? You get that from the kitchen?”

“No, I brought it from . . .home.”

“Right, well finish it up. You got a table.” Crap. She checks her phone. 

“Come on Mandy. You just started your shift and I got ten minutes left!”

“He asked for you specificity.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Real cute.”

Damian?

Stephanie cleans up her meal and straightens out her work outfit. Without a mirror she can only hope her hair is holding up.

“Look at you primping yourself. It’s cute.” Stephanie swats at her friend as she heads to her section. Sure enough, in the furthest booth possible, sits Damian. His tall form hunched over a grey mug filled with black coffee. He doesn’t look up till she stands beside him.

“Oh course you would work here.” He doesn’t hide his distaste. Damian always hated it when she would drag him here, to Happy Burger. She always felt his upbringing wouldn’t allow him to admit he did enjoy the burgers here. Because he never really put up much of a fight. And he would clean his plate.

“Yup, Happy Burger, home of the happiest burger in the world!” She says in her normal cheery work voice. “What can I get for you?”

“Sit.” He commands. “Please.” Stephanie sinks into the seat, dreadful of his findings.

“What did you find?”

“Not much on who attacked Maryanne. Other than there was four of them. I couldn’t see how they got in or out. Security cameras are lacking in that area. The people who did this were personals.”

“There was a lot of blood. Do you think she’s dead?” Damian shakes his head.

“Four attackers. Two victims. The blood came from two people. The wounds weren’t life threatening.” Damian pulls out from his coat pocket a military medal. It’s old. Many homeless are veterans. The pin is bent, as if it was torn off. There were several veterans who were friends with Maryanne. Jeff was one of them.

“I checked the police and hospital reports. Nothing. So our next step is going to have to search the clinic itself.”

Stephanie nods. Keeping aware of their surroundings. The diner is mostly empty at this hour.

“I need you to come with me.” That drags her back to focus on the young man in front of her.

“What?” Damian looks perturb.

“I’m not doing this alone. You know these people. I don’t. There might be evidence of other victims from your halfway house.”

“Right, but it’s been awhile and I’m not sure my suit. . .”

“Suck it in. Like you always did before.” He smirks at her. Yeah, she totally missed this.

“Ass.” She tosses at him. But no heat is in her words. She learned a long time ago to know when Damian is teasing. “I was going to say I’m not sure my suit is still around. I gave everything back to your father.”

“He kept it.” Damian leans back in the booth, arms crossed over his chest. He chooses to look out the window. This tells Stephanie he isn’t be truthful. “Adjustments are easy enough to make.”

“Damian. . .I.” Blues eyes focus on her. And she finds herself agreeing to go. “Alright. But I’m a little rusty.”

“T-t. This isn’t breaking into Arkham. Do as I say and you will be fine.”

“As you say. Want to head out now?”

“I’ll meet you outside.” Stephanie watching Damian exit the diner. A part of her is exhilarated at the idea of getting back in the game. A part she thought long dead. However, as she finishes up and checkout, worry creeps up on her. Stephanie hope she’s not making a mistake.


	3. Like A Glove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments! They help fuel me.

Chapter Three  
Like A Glove

Four Years Ago

The study group goes past the scheduled release. But the fear of Professor Tylor’s soul sucking exams drive the group forward. It isn’t till 9:40pm when the members call it quits. Some grumble at the prospect of having to run to catch the last bus but Stephanie had been hoping for it. 

She exits the building with the group, declining to join those who will try for the bus. Stephanie assures them she’ll be fine as she bids them farewell. With a final wave she begins her trek home. 

It’s not a short walk. Especially if she takes the better lit pathways. Campus call boxes line those paths and a few cops patrolling. But instead of taking the safer way back to her apartment, Stephanie goes down a short cut. It leads her between buildings, shrouded in shadows and is the type of thing parents warn their children to avoid.

The university had sent out an email warning to not takes risks at night as there had been several attacks. But a quick hack into police reports, seriously, they need better firewalls, told a far worse story.

Two girls in the last two weeks had been beaten, bound and raped. They were left for dead. Both victims were students at the community college and that’s were the police have their focus. Yet the photos of the crime and the reports tells Stephanie the attacks are planned. They had scoped out the site, had tools to gag and bound the victims and they were smart enough to wear protection.

This rapist isn’t going to push his luck and will look elsewhere for his next victim. So the past couple of nights she’s taken the darkest, most isolated way home. Trying to play the part of a lone female college student. Trying to tempt the bastard.

She pulls out her phone to pretend she’s distracted.

Is this a risk? Yes. Better her then someone else.

She senses someone following her. Finally! Her hand reaches inside her jacket, gripping the collapsible staff. She didn’t return everything to Bruce. Stephanie keeps her face down over her phone as she hears a second person join the first. Their footsteps pickup. 

Stephanie is ready.

FOOSH! The familiar sound rings in her ears. It’s the sound of a caped figure slamming into a body. In this case, two bodies. The would be attackers are unconscious before she can fully turn around.

Sitting on top of them is Robin, back turned as he zip ties the thugs. Beside them lay their weapons. And rope.

Robin whirls around to face her and in a flash he’s pulling them up to a nearby roof. He drops her less then gracefully, letting her stumble away.

“Hypocrite!” He seethes. “You claim our way is wrong and here you are! Purposely looking for these rapists as if you were still part of the team!”

“Lay off, brat! The fact these streets aren’t safe is proof your way isn’t working!”

“Either stop this foolishness and return to the team or get off the streets!” Those are Robin’s finally words before he takes off. Stephanie runs to the roofs edge, yelling at him.

“The hell I will! I’ll never go back! Never!” Robin either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. She received no response from him. Stephanie watches his figure disappear over a roof as she tries to calm her rage. Slowly the adrenaline fades and her mind clears. This is when she notices that the little brat had left her with no easy way down.

“I so hate him!”

Present 

When Damian said adjustments, he actually meant a entirely new suit. Mechanical arms sway back and forth rapidly as they weave her a suit. It’s oddly satisfying to watch. Back and forth. Back and forth the arms go. With each pass more of the suit is seen. 

The new suit will be ‘slightly’ updated. By Damian’s standards that means it will be dark purple because Damian is a critic. And this coming from a guy who sports a bright yellow hooded cape.

Ok, he has upgraded to a black hooded cape but the underneath is still bright yellow.

Stephanie looks at her original suit in its own case. She’s not sure how to feel about that. That honor is usual reserved for those who have past. Her eyes drift towards Todd’s Robin suit and then to Tim’s. The last time she saw that uniform, Tim was wearing it.

The one in the case is a remake though. There was nothing left of . . . Her chest tightens and she tears her eyes away. No, she needs to focus. 

Damian, suited up, walks over to stand beside her. Together they watch the machine in silence. His presence is strangely comforting. It grounds her thoughts even. Pulling back in focus their mission.

The atmosphere is still a little heavy for her liking. And the prolonged silence starts to get to her.

“You sure your Dad will be ok with this?” Stephanie decides to speak first.

“A little late to ask that now.” True. He hands her a utility belt.

“Well, if he comes after me, I’m totally dragging you down with me.”

“T-t.” The machine suddenly shuts off. The suit is now complete. “Finally. Get dressed.” 

The suit is tossed at her and she marvels at its lightness. Even with a hooded cape. She takes familiar steps toward the dressing area and begins suiting up. Doing this is a surreal experience. After all this time she still remembers the steps. It’s like she never left.

Stephanie does a twirl before the mirror, admiring how the suit fits her figure. She looks good.

“I swear, you’re almost as bad as Dick.” Tim’s voice echoes in her mind. The memory makes her heart ache.

“Brown!” Damian barks out from behind the door. God, he almost sounds like his father. “Stop admiring yourself and get out here.”

“I’m coming! Hold your horses.”

Damian is already at his bike, helmet on. He tosses one at her which she catches with easy. He starts the bike as he watches her.

“Well?” His impatience is muffled by his helmet. Stephanie looks around for a second bike but doesn’t see one. Batmobile is gone, probably taken by Dick who is acting as Batman in Bruce’s absence. Odd that it’s not Damian. He is old enough and sounds closer to Batman.

“I don’t have all night Brown.” The helmet doesn’t dampen his annoyance, she can even feel it.

Hmm, guess they have to share. She puts the helmet on and slides behind him. Until this moment, Stephanie hadn’t fully taken in the changes in Damian. But as her arms wrap around his form, she cannot help but notice. 

Damian is far taller and broader now. The mussels under her arms are firm from rigorous training. Tim was firm but still had a little bit of softness to him. She often teased he needed to spend less time behind the computer. 

Damian shifts to adjust to her added weight and presses his back into her. The action draws her focus and she readies herself. This is old hat for her, having spent plenty of time riding on the back of Tim’s bike. The closeness, the rush and the trust she had to put in Tim, it always left her exhilarated.

However, this isn’t Tim. This is Damian and she doesn’t know what to expect. It’s not that she doesn’t trusts him but . . .

Damian takes off in a flash and all thoughts are left back in the cave. She grips him tightly as they tear down the road.

Tim drove smartly. He had an uncanny way of predicting the flow of traffic. This made it feel like they were gliding between the moving vehicles. It was almost like a dance. Damian on the other hand? Drove like a bat out of hell. Daring vehicles to get in his way.

Typical.

Thanks to his breakneck driving, they arrive in no time. He chose to park between two buildings not even a full block away. The tight alleyway is poorly lit, the only light source coming from a flickering street light. Damian takes advantage of the darkness to hide the bike. 

With a silent signal between them, they take off for the roofs. Once there they waste no time as they run towards to the clinic. She can feel Damian’s eyes on her as they come to the roofs edge. To get across to the next building they’ll have to jump. 

He slows just enough to let her leap first. Most likely to be ready to catch her because of course he doesn’t have faith in her.

Yes, it’s been five years since she has done this. But she kept up with her exercise routine Bruce drilled into everyone. She speeds up and takes the leap!

The air is forced out of her as she lands and she stumbles. Hands steady her so she doesn’t fall on her face. Damian doesn’t wait for her thanks, leaping to the next roof.

Stephanie begins to suspect he chose to park close to the clinic because he wasn’t confident in her. 

Back in the day she would have taken offense and done something reckless to prove herself. Funny how time can mature a person. Instead of getting upset, she is grateful. This isn’t easy. In what felt like forever, they land on the clinic’s roof.

Breaking in is easy with the fancy tech. Which she now notices Damian has given her none of. Save for her collapsible staff and grappling gun, Stephanie is a bit undressed.

“Hey, my utility belt is a bit light here.” 

“By design.” He grumbles as he picks the lock to the Archive room. “I’m not trusting someone as rusty as you with gear costing millions of dollars.”

“But you’d make me a million dollar suit?” She teases.

“Quite!” He hisses. “I’m trying to be useful here. You should try it.”

She rolls her eyes as he pops the door open. 

In the darkness they can make out two long tables with six workstations each. In the back of the room are several server racks lining the wall. Their lights blink at them like hundred little eyes, their hum the only noise in the room. 

Damian pulls out a cord from his wrist as he silently moves to the servers. His face becomes illuminated in a blue light as an electronic keyboard appears over his arm. Damian plugs in the cord and begins to work. Quick fingers glide over the keyboard in silence.

Stephanie decides to use this time to walk the room. She starts with the computers. Each one has a stack of papers by it. Her gloved fingers brush over a stack, doesn’t seem too large. It’s far too dark to see what is on them but if she were to guess these are the forms the clinic makes people fill out.

Stephanie lifts one form to her face but it’s too dark to read it. Doubt starts to fill her. Per Jeff, Maryanne would have been here about a week ago. If they did something to her, they wouldn’t just leave the form lying out in the open.

“I don’t see any of their names.” Damian’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t be surprised? If you’re planning to do something bad, would you keep a record?” She makes her way to him, form in hand. “The fact they are not in the system is telling. Right?”

“You got red on you.” 

“What?” Damian pulls a red circle sticker off her gloved hand and hands it back to her. “Oops, it’s dark over there. Cause someone didn’t trust me with a flashlight.” She presses the sticker back on the form.

“I’d have given you one if you asked. A flashlight is easily replaced.” He hands over a small flashlight.

“You can be such a brat.”

“What did you find?” He nods his head toward the paper.

“Well, now that I can see . . . It’s a medical form. George Smith, age 36. Homeless, no emergency contact. No primary doctor listed. And agreed to blood work.” She looks at the red sticker again. “Is that reason for the sticker? Low tech.”

“Check the other forms.” He returns to his screen, typing away.

Stephanie rolls her eyes at his dismal as she returns the form. The other forms don’t show anything that stands out. Those that checked yes to blood work have a red sticker on them. That explains that. Wait. One form said the patient agreed to blood work but no sticker.

She rechecks the stack and all others. Not all forms have the sticker even though blood work was agreed too. What’s the difference?

“Anything?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, I might have something. You done with the download?” She scans the forms for any differences.

Damian’s answer to her question is to disconnect from the server. He makes his way over to her.

“Not all forms agreeing to blood work have stickers. The only difference I can see is the person didn’t put anyone down as an emergency contact.”

“This one here doesn’t have a sticker nor an emergency contact.” He pulls out a form for her to see.

“But she put down an address! Robin, only homeless patients with no contacts have stickers.”

“Meaning no one to worry about them.” An unsettling feeling falls upon her. This doesn’t bode well. Damian quickly takes down the names of those with stickers on their forms and together they place the forms back. At the workstation at the far end of the table, Stephanie notices a paper shredder. Opening it up she sees long strips of destroyed forms, spots of red stickers is seen.

A box of trash bags lay besides the shredder and that spurs her to action.

“What are you doing?” Damian watches her pull the filled bag from the shredder. Figuring out her plan he assists in replacing the bag with a new one. “I couldn’t find any lab work on the servers. They must be held elsewhere.”

“You think lab work is done here?”

“Really? This isn’t amateur hour. I did research prior to coming here, learned the floor plan.”

“Ok, don’t bite my head off. Is it the basement? I bet it’s the basement.”

“Yes.”

“Of course, evil labs are always in the basement.” His eyes may be hidden under a mask, but she felt him rolling them. “Let’s go.”

“No, take the bag to the roof and wait.” She tries to protest. “No argument.” He leaves her in the room to stew.

“Fine. I didn’t want to go down to the stupid basement anyway.” She grumbles as she makes her way back, bag at her side. Old wounds start peel open, bringing back a bitterness. She’s been left behind plenty of times by Bruce and even a few times by Tim. Damian doing the same shouldn’t be a surprise or bother her as much. But it does. 

The outside air seems colder. She takes a deep breath and surveys the area, anything to keep her busy. Keep her from feeling left out. 

Damian returns quickly, face grim.

“That didn’t take long.”

“Couldn’t get in. They have setup a rather high tech secretary system.” He peers over the edge of the building.

“Too high tech for your gear?” He pulls back and taps on the keyboard from before.

“I’ll need to come back.” Of course he won’t admit it. “Interesting security for such a tiny clinic. It’s not Wayne tech either.” Stephanie feels that was said more to himself than to her.

“Tomorrow night?”

“No. We’ll talk more at the safe house.” He takes off, not waiting for her. She doesn’t get to ask her questions until they land by the bike.

“We’re not going back to the cave?” He says nothing as he hands over her helmet. “My stuff is back at the cave. And my car.” Damian hesitates. Interesting.

“I’ll have it dropped off. And before you ask, yes, there are clothes for you to wear at the safe house.”

Not wanting to argue anymore, Stephanie gets on the bike. The safe house is in the the city, near Wayne Tower, so it is a shorter ride. And Stephanie is pleased that the ride isn’t as crazed as before. He’s still a speed demon though.

At the safe house, Damian immediately goes to the computer as soon as he’s off the bike. It almost felt like he was fleeing. He places his helmet on the console just as Stephanie manages to take her own off. 

“I’ll upload the files. Tomorrow, at Open Doors, get the names of those you’ve housed. From there we’ll compare the lists.” He looks at her over his is shoulder. “The places does keep track of those who stay?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good, afterwards meet me at Wayne Enterprise.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Her voice drifts off as Damian monitors the screen. The light from them make his olive skin glow. Secretly she’ll admit he has become handsome. And now she will bury that thought deep, deep down into the her subconscious, never to see the light again. “What about bag?” She holds it up for him to see.

“Treat it like a puzzle and make piles based on similarities.”

“Right, like a puzzle.” She’s starting to regret this. Stephanie moves to a open area and sits on the floor. For the next hour she makes piles. And remakes them as she starts to put the pieces together. Slowly, a form stars to reform. The promise of completion keeps her going.

At one point, Damian joins her. He doesn’t say anything and really only seems to be surveying her work. Judging more likely. Stephanie won’t let him ruin her flow. She’s got something going here.

“Did leaving help?” His question is a shock to her system, coming out of nowhere. He turns to better face her. His face is unreadable. Damian is very guarded right now. “Did it make things better?”

How to start this conversation? She hasn’t even had it with herself.

“Damian, honestly, I regret how I left. I lost my friends. But at that time, in that moment, I knew I just had to leave. Everything reminded me of Tim.” She sighs as she readies herself. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you.”

“Are you making a difference? More than you would have had you stayed?”

“I like to think so. I do know the work I do at Open Doors is something I wouldn’t have been able to do if I stayed as Spoiler.”

“You could have done both.” Why is he pushing this? 

“You might not have remembered but Tim and I were planning on hanging up the capes for university.”

Silence falls between them. She doubles her efforts in hopes of finishing one form. Anything to change the topic.

“I wasn’t aware.” She almost didn’t hear him. Stephanie spares him a glance. He isn’t looking at her, picking at a pile. He sounded embarrassed.

“Yeah, Tim had this big, grand plan that would allow all of us to be . . . Normal. Allow us to have a life.”

“I don’t know anything other than this life.”

Her heart breaks.

“I know. Why did you think I dragged you into that moon bounce? Or made you go to Happy Burger. I was trying to give you a taste of normal.”

“Low grade, greasy beef and motion sickness is your idea of normal?” He scoffs at her.

“Please, you enjoyed all of it.” He tilts his head away from her in an attempt to hide a smile. They talk about all the “horrible”/enjoyable escapades they shared out of uniform. The conversation is a nice distraction has they work their grim task.

It is actually pleasant.

By 1am they have three forms completed. Damian calls it quits, he offers her the bed here and shows were the spare outfits are. Sweats mostly. But she’s too tired to care.

“I’ll bring over your car here.” She hears his voice as she readies the bed, more like a fancy cot. Her mind is fuzzy with sleep. “Remember, get the names.”

“Yeah, I’ll get them. Meet back here tomorrow night?”

“No, I’ll drop your car off and then head to work. You go get the names and come to Wayne Tower. There we’ll go to the clinic.”

That woke her up.

“What? Why?”

“I think it’s long over due for a Wayne to check on the clinic.”

“Uh, that means I have to dress fancy.” 

“Just make sure whatever you wear is clean.” Brat. Her brain is too tired to throw a retort back.

“Whatever you say. Good night.”

“Good night Stephanie.”

Damian sighs in relief upon seeing the Batmobile is still gone from the cave. He knows he won’t be able to explain Stephanie’s car or her stuff being here. He tried to come up with several excuses but knows it’s futile. Grayson has an uncanny way for seeing through his lies.

Damian can almost hear the lecture he’ll get on disobeying orders. His father was very clear that Damian was off all missions until Grayson deemed him ready. Damian had planned on discussing this topic with the acrobat in the near future but then Stephanie walked in and threw it all out the window.

Stephanie. Damian sits down in his father’s chair as he draws on the memory of her from earlier.

He had planned on reaching out to her after he had established himself at Wayne Enterprise. Damian wanted to show her he wasn’t a child anymore. Prove to her he was someone to take seriously. Then she had to ruin his plans.

Batmobile pulls into the cave and all thoughts of her is dropped. Damian looks down at his Robin suit, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Well that was a fun night!” Grayson’s cheerful voice is an absolute disgrace to the cowl. “Took down Black Mask goons, stopped an arms deal, busted up a drug ring and saved a little old lady from being mugged.” He pulls the mask off, eyeing Damian’s own outfit. “How was your night?”

That is a loaded question. Grayson always chose to let people talk themselves into trouble. So Damian has to be careful.

“How’s Stephanie?” Dammit. “Alfred told me she came by.”

“She did. Looking for help on some disappearances.”

“Hmm, disappearances you say?” 

“Yes, it’s nothing we were tracking before.”

“Which means you’re not breaking any rules.” He hadn’t thought of that. Damian tries to hide his surprise.

“T-t. Rules. Like I’m still a child.”

“No, rules like your still learning. You were given a chance and . . .” 

“I’m well aware that my predicament is of my own doing. No need to keep bringing it up.”

“Oh? That’s excellent to hear.” Grayson smiles at him. “I want a full report on this. I mean it Damian. Do not skimp on the details.” Gods, it’s like he’s ten again.

“I know what I’m doing.” It takes a lot of effort to temper his words. “This will not be like my last case.”

“I sure hope not. Someone died.”


	4. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Life has been crazy. Hope everyone is staying safe out there!

Chapter Four  
Lost and Found

Damian always found it amusing how a well tailored suit felt like armor. Much like his Robin suit, the cut of this business suit is done to show dominance and strength. He is pleased at the image he sees in the full mirror. No mistaking him for a child here.

“Oh no, please tell me there isn’t a board meeting today!” Grayson is a mess, hair disheveled and still in his sleep wear. He dramatically leans against the door frame to Damian’s room. “I hate those meetings. I never feel prepared.”

“That’s because you never are.” Damian does a final adjustment to his tie before turning to face the acrobat. “You can cut the dramatics, the board isn’t meeting today.”

“Oh, but why that suit? You only break it out when you’re going to the board. Or for something special.” Grayson’s insistence exasperates Damian. 

“You didn’t read my report.” He crosses his arms over his chest in frustration. “Even after you told me to do it, you didn’t read it. Another one of your pointless exercises.” 

“I read your report. A bit light on details but it’s early in the investigation, so I will let that slide.” Grayson pushes away from the door frame, effectively blocking Damian in. “But that doesn’t explain the suit. Seems pretty much for a visit to the clinic.” His eyes shine mischievously.

Damian isn’t sure which annoys him more. The fact that Grayson enjoys playing dumb or the fact that he can easily see through Damian. 

“I wish to be taken seriously.” That comment earns Damian a sly grin and a chuckle from Grayson.

Todd was always blunt and to the point when he wanted answers, something Damian appreciated. Drake and his Father chose to pick apart everything he would say and read into what wasn’t said. Damian would be loathed to admit it but he did respect that ability of theirs and would try to mimic them. But Grayson? Grayson chose to dance around the topic until Damian would give up and just tell him everything.

“You’re the son of the benefactor for the clinic. You could show up in scrubs and they’d act like you’re in a million dollar suit. That would give the tabloids something to write about! You should do that!”

“No, I will not. Now move, you’re going to make me late.” But Grayson doesn’t move, his teasing smile dropping into a serious line. It’s never good when Grayson looks at him like that.

“I’m not going to add your case to the files.” Meaning his father will not know. “This will be entirely your responsibility. I’ll help if needed. But I want to know you’re serious about this.”

“T-t, when am I never serious?”

“Damian, I don’t want your emotions to blind you . . .”

“Oh? I have emotions now? I thought the whole reason behind my ‘grounding’ was due to my lack of emotions?” 

“Ok, that was fair and I deserved that.” He holds his hands up in a sign of surrender. “It’s just that you’re dragging Stephanie into this.”

“Please, more like she’s doing the dragging. This case was started by her.”

“You know I wasn’t referring to that.” Of course, he is referring to dragging her back into this dysfunctional family. Damian has nothing more to say on that particular topic. In his opinion, all parties involved are just being stubborn. Himself included, he will admit. To himself only. But he stands by his actions.

“I’m not using this as a means to prove anything. Stephanie came to us with a problem. That alone shows how serious this is. And I plan on helping.” They watch each other, neither satisfied with this conversation. Grayson backs down with a sigh. He steps away from the door way.

“Alright, I have faith in you.” Anger begins to boil in him at Grayson’s words. He wants to call him out on that. Ask Grayson where that ‘faith’ was when his father took the cowl away from him. But no, he doesn’t have time. Stephanie is waiting on him.

——

“Oooh, when did I get old?” The words escape her in a groan. Her thighs and lower back hurt as she tries to lift herself out of the bed. It was like the day after her first night as Robin. Which was also her last night. She pushed herself too hard yesterday. But she didn’t want to seem like a liability. 

And now she is paying for it. 

Slowly she rises and stretches out her poor back. She gives her thighs a good rub down before getting up. Leaving the small room, Stephanie notices a note on the only table in the main room. Beside it is a bag with her clothes from yesterday and a thumb drive. Damian must have come by when she was past out.

’11:40AM, Wayne Tower’

Damian has excellent penmanship. Truly a lost art.

Looking at the only clock tells Stephanie she has less than an hour to get dressed, get to Open Doors to download the data and get to Wayne Tower.

“Crap, crap, crap!” She swaps out the sweatpants for her jeans but decides to keep the sweatshirt. No time to go home for new clothes. Luckily this place is stocked with extra toothbrushes so she won’t be a total slob. With teeth clean and face washed, Stephanie rushes to her car. 

Luckily no one at the front desk tries to stop her as she rushes by. She tosses out quick greetings as she moves to her office. Once safe inside, she begins downloading the names. Open Doors barley has functioning computers let alone network security. Getting in is no problem. It’s the age of the system that holds things up. Slowly, very slowly the data is downloading.

Stephanie can just imagine the scowling face of Damian if she walks in late. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sudden noise and the opening of her office door startles her. Instinctively her fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to stop the download.

Mr. Lamont, director for Open Doors, pops his head in. He looks at her clothes with a cocked eyebrow. Great, just what she needs.

“You alright?” He asks, never fully opening the door. Stephanie can see movement behind him. Crap, he has donors here.

“Yeah, sorry.” Sure that Mr. Lamont cannot see her screen, Stephanie tries to fix her hair. “Had a rough night and I think I’m coming down with something. So I was planning on making today a paperwork day.” She lifts up a pile of papers to distract him. “But if you need me?”

“Oh no, only if you’re feeling up to it.” He glances worriedly to whoever is with him. “I have Mr. Goller here, who wanted to talk about setting up an injection site. But if you’re not feeling well . . .” Drug overdoses is a cruel killer on these streets. On many streets in the country in fact. Stephanie has been trying to push for injection sites at Open Doors where those struggling to be drug free can inject under medical supervision. But the funding was never there. Or the backbone to support such a ‘scandalous’ proposal.

“Yes! I’d love to discuss this.” Stephanie cannot believe her luck! To finally have a donor willing to take this project on. But her smile fades as she eyes the computer. The download has completed. And Damian is waiting. An image crosses her mind of Damian impatiently tapping his toe as he scowls at his watch. “But I’m not prepared to present my briefing.” 

“You have a briefing?” No. “That’s wonderful but he’s here now. If we can get a few notes that would be fine.” And much to her horror, Mr. Lamont opens the door to show Mr. Goller standing there.

He’s a handsome man with blond hair and warm brown eyes. The man is dressed in an expensive suit and the name finally hits her.

Goller Shipping. One of the country’s largest shipping company. Gotham isn’t home to just one rich family, several in fact. Goller clan is old money who have ambition for higher power. Several family members have run for office. In fact, his grandfather or great grandfather was mayor? She cannot remember that elementary school lesson.

“Hello Ms. Brown. I’ve heard great things about you.” He smiles charmingly at her as he extends a hand in greeting. Stephanie quickly stands up, her hand accidentally moving the computer screen further away from her guest as she accepts Mr. Goller’s hand. It’s large, warm and soft. A privileged life. 

“Mr. Goller, I’ve been wanting to thank you for your previous donation. The new kitchen equipment is being put to great use.”

“Glad to hear it. And it’s John. What you do here is an important service.” His tone shows he’s sincere. “Sorry for catching you off guard. I saw that the House rejected the bill that would have set these clinics up and that’s when I remember Doug here talking about your plan. Thought I could help out.”

“Wonderful to hear and call me Stephanie. I would be happy to discuss this but . . .” Stephanie hopes she’s not ruining her chance here. “Tomorrow good?” Mr. Lamont shoots her a pleading look.

“Tomorrow is no good.” Her heart drops. “How about I come by Thursday? You could show me your brief then?”

“Sounds wonderful.” She tries not to laugh nervously as they shake on it. Great, now she has to pull together a briefing. She never liked sleep anyway.

The two men discuss the logistics for the meeting, 1pm thankfully. Once that is settled they bid her good bye and continue on their way. Stephanie counts to ten before pulling the thumb drive. She tells the girl at the front desk she’s going home sick and her appearance helps with her lie. 

It’s 12:20 when she finally walks into Damian’s office. And the thought of Damian having an office, with secretaries is surreal. The little murder brat has four secretaries! They sit primly at modern style desks, busily typing away. Large, floor to ceiling windows line one wall, giving a view of the city below and open sky.

The opposite wall has at its center a large portrait of the Wayne family. Bruce sitting in the center with Dick, Tim and Damian beside him. She remembers when that was done, teasing Tim about the insanity of it. Really, sitting that long for a painted portrait when a photo would have been just as good.

“It was more about being together as a family.” Tim told her. His smile made her swallow her jealousy.

“Greetings Ms. Brown.” One of the secretaries greets her as she elegantly rises from her desk. Her smile is warm and shows no sign of judgement at Stephanie’s appearance. “Damian will be with you in a moment. He’s on a call right now. Please have a seat.” She indicates towards a posh looking couch, in front of it is a coffee table with magazines scattered about. All about Wayne Enterprise.

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“I’m good. Thank you.” Another pleasant smile and the woman returns to her desk. Stephanie tries not to think about their expensive clothes as she sits there in her outfit. Being out of place is normal for her. 

Stephanie halfheartedly looks through the magazines as she waits. The only noise in the room comes from the typing by the secretaries. Her hand itches for her phone, anything to fill the void.

This must be Damian punishing her for being late.

“Ms. Brown? Damian can see you now.” Speak of the Devil. The same woman from before waits by the large wooden doors. The wood is a dark brown, polished to perfection. With another smile, the woman opens the door for her.

Stephanie gives her thanks as she walks in. The office reminds her of Bruce’s study back in the manor. Large bookshelves filled to the brim, masks from around the world adorn the walls and in a touch that is totally Damian, a sword is on display by the desk. Knowing Damian that sword is very real. 

There are no photos hanging up besides a portrait of the Wayne’s with a young Bruce. Stephanie wonders what Damian must see when he looks at that painting. Something he’ll never have? Or wasn’t allowed to have.

Thoughts of the young man draws her attention to the figure standing behind the desk. His back is to her, arms crossed behind him, looking out the only window. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence until the click of the door is heard.

“You’re late.” Here it comes. Stephanie braces herself for a verbal lashing. But it never comes. Instead he turns to face her, face showing tempered concern.“Everything alright?” 

Words escapes her at the sight of Damian. The suit he’s wearing shows off his tall lean for form. Damian looks as if he’s ready for a high fashion magazine. But damn, does she love a man in a well made suit.

Bad Stephanie. Focus!

“Yeah, just peachy. Here’s the data.” She tosses the thumb drive which he catches with ease. Taking the item, he plugs it into his computer and begins to work. “Hopefully this won’t take long?”

“In a hurry?” Blue eyes spare her a glance over the screen. “Do you have a busy schedule to keep?” His tone is easy enough to read. So it seems Damian has picked up sarcasm.

“Look, I’m sorry for being late. I have no real excuse.” Damian cuts her off.

“I’m not asking for one. Just do better next time.” Do better. Boy, if that isn’t the mantra of her life. “Have you eaten yet?” He asks casually. A jaded part of her starts throwing up red flags. Food was always a source of arguments between them. Damian never wasted an opportunity to throw a snide comment about her food choices. And she never let it slide.

Her stomach grumbles, cutting her thoughts short. The screen might be blocking his face but she could just feel his smirk.

“No, not yet.”

“We can have something ordered while we discuss our plans. I assume you’d want something deep fried and smothered in fake cheese?” 

“You are such a cheese snob. But that does sound good.” Damian makes a disgusted grunt.

“I’m not a cheese snob. I just do not accept anything that comes from a bucket to be cheese. How does Korean sound?”

Korean sounds good and Damian places the order. Stephanie takes a seat in front of the desk thinking Damian would remain behind it. But he doesn’t. He chooses to walk around and lean against it, close to her. At this angle, he towers over her. It’s a little awkward.

“So . . .the plan?”

“We will wait for the computer to finish searching for matches between the two lists. Should not be long. After that we’ll head to the clinic. I want to get a better view of that security system they have set up.” He looks at her outfit. “We’ll make a stop somewhere for you to get a better outfit.”

“A stop like my apartment? I have a nice interview outfit.” Damian levels her with a bemused look.

“I forgot to mention. Congratulations on your new job.”

“I’m not going to like this? Am I?” He actually seems insulted.

“Only if you have an aversion to being paid well. I’m hiring you as an assistant.”

“Seriously?” He levels her with a look. “Of course you are. Isn’t that a little extreme? Can’t I just be myself? Or am I going to have to wear a wig?”

“No wig. And you will be yourself. Still volunteering at Open Doors. You just work for me now. Your focus will be overlooking all charities within the city. And this visit is to introduce you to the clinic.” Stephanie can feel her panic rise, that’s a huge responsibility. Sensing her uneasy, Damian continues. “Ms. Rose handles all charity activities for Wayne Enterprise. She’s been hounding me for help ever since her assistant left for maternity leave. This will be a temporary position.”

“And your father will be ok with this?” His look is ice cold.

“Do you see him here?”

“No.”

Silence is her only answer.

“Ok money bags, if you want to give me a job and buy me clothes, I won’t stop you. But I’m going to pick the most expensive outfit! And shoes!” That gets a smirk out of him.

“You’re going to learn that expensive doesn’t mean tasteful. Especially in women’s fashion.”

“You know women’s fashion?” He blushes.

“Not by choice. Grayson dragged me to a few fashion shows. It was an . . .experience.” She cannot help but laugh at the image in her head.

“I can see it now, music pumping, models cat walking as cameras flash and there’s you . . .sunglasses on with a grumpy face. I bet Dick was bobbing to the music?”

“Only when he wasn’t chatting to the actress . . .or was she a model? Whoever she was, never got her name.”

“I bet you did. You just didn’t care enough to remember.”

“Why would I? It was all fake. But necessary in order to keep with a public image.”

“How do you handle it? Living the image of a rich playboy?” Damian ponders on this, a long finger tapping his chin as he formulates an answer.

“I see it as another guise, one I wear durning the day. It serves a purpose and must be maintained.”

“So, businesses as usual? You never get a break to just be you?” Stephanie saw this with Tim. It was hard to pull him away from Bruce’s crusade and see the real Tim. Deep down, Stephanie wonders if she ever saw the real Tim. She would like to hope so.

“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me like one of your patients?” His defenses are going up. She’ll need to tread carefully.

“I don’t have patients per say. But I’m not asking as a psychologist. I’m asking as a friend?” She cringes at how the word ‘friend’ came out as a question. He eyes her suspiciously.

“Friend.” He repeats the word. His voice is bitter. “You get the friends you deserve.” He mumbles to himself.

“What does that mean?” She’s a glutton for punishment by pushing this. Stephanie is fully aware she has not been a good friend. In the past five years she had done everything in her power to be as separate as possible from the team. And here she is, acting like she never left. Questioning Damian like she has a right to.

“Not fully sure. Someone who . . .I worked with told me that.” A heaviness falls between them. They are only saved by their lunch arriving. Happy for the distraction, they set up the food on the short conference table by the family portrait. Stephanie tries to not look at their faces. Damian does the same.

They quietly eat for a few moments. Never someone who liked long periods of silence, Stephanie tries to come up with something to say. Surprisingly it is Damian who breaks the silence.

“Father is making me go to college.” He says with a pout. “I start in the fall.”

“Making you? Did he threaten to cut you off if you didn’t go?” He shakes his head no.

“That would have been pointless. I have my own fortune.” Obviously. “He took the cowl away from me. Said I needed to ‘mature’. And apparently that means wasting my time in trivial studies.”

So he was Batman?

“You’re Father and I didn’t always see eye to eye. And I still feel he set me up for failure when he made me Robin. But that might be my pride talking.” She chooses her words carefully. Damian would have done something huge to have the cowl taken away. And being Batman is a sensitive topic with him.“But I don’t think he’d do anything that wasn’t to your benefit. College would be a great opportunity to build a life beyond being Batman.”

“I’m curious to know what you mean by that. Do you believe one can only have a ‘life’ if the they go to drunken parties? Seriously ask yourself, could you see me at a kegger?” No. But it is a fun thought.

“Damian, why do you think college is nothing more than parties?”

“Everyone keeps saying I need to get out more and by that they usually mean parties. I just assume that’s what . . .” He crosses his arms in frustration. “College is pointless! I would know more than any of those professors.”

“What’s your major?”

“International business law with a minor in economics.” He almost spits out the words. “Typical degrees one would expect for the heir to Wayne Enterprise.”

“And you would know more than the professors?”

“Of course. Mother made sure I was ready to not only take over as Batman but take over the entire enterprise.” And there is the old smug brat. Damian looks entirely too pleased with himself.

Stephanie fails at stopping her eyes from rolling. It’s just a habit when he gets this way.

“Have you addressed this with your father?”

“No, he took off right after. He wouldn’t have listened anyway.” Then more quietly. “He hasn’t listened in a long while.”

“Damian.” She reaches out to take his hand. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. He refuses to make eye contact. “Is everything ok?” The struggle on his face is real. He isn’t trying to hide his emotions here. Or maybe they are too painful for him too. What happened while she was gone?

“When is anything ok? We live a life where just making it to the next day is an achievement.” He looks down at their hands as he pulls his thoughts together. Stephanie patiently waits. “This burden we carry? Is self inflicted. So I don’t do all this blindly.” He finally looks up at her with sharp eyes. “I know my actions will have consequences. I accept that. I’m well aware of the responsibilities before me. What I don’t know is how to prove that to him. Going to college, it just feels like he’s delaying me because he doesn’t know what to do with me. Putting me aside because he cannot deal with me.”

“I cannot claim to know what goes through your father’s mind. But I do know he loves you.” He pulls away his hand. Dammit. “Damian. He does. But you should know he isn’t the best when it comes to feelings. In fact he’s the worst at it. But even with that, take this opportunity to make college what you want it to be. Want it to be all about perfecting you rich playboy façade? Do it. Or choose a major you actually want and focus on that. But at least enjoy life outside the Batcave. Going to college helped put things in prospective for me.”

“How?”

“It let me see what I am fighting for. And see what I was missing when I was 30 stories up in the air.”

“How could you not know? What were you doing before leaving us? Was it a game to you?”

“Whoa! Where the hell is this coming from? I never said that. I chose to be Spoiler to bring some good into this city. Especially since my dad was trying to do the opposite. But after awhile I could only see super villains. I wasn’t seeing the other problems plaguing this city. We have a serious homeless problem. And homelessness can lead to drug use which will lead to crime. Punching Two Face in the face doesn’t solve everything.”

“We lock them up only for them to escape and carry on.” His voice is bitter.

“Right. Tim tried to creat a solution to fix everything. His heart was in the right place. But I don’t think an algorithm is what this city needs. I thought maybe it didn’t even need Batman. But there are things I, Stephanie, cannot do. I see that now.” Stephanie cannot tell if she’s getting through to him. Or if she’s making any sense. “I guess my point is . . .taking time away from everything I was doing as Spoiler helped me understand why I even tried to help. It allowed me to understand myself.”

“I understand myself just fine.” Ok, she obviously isn’t getting through to him. “Where I struggle is getting others to understand me. Everyone seems to draw their own conclusion about me. That I cannot possibly be ‘happy’ with the way I am.”

“Damian, you just put the word happy in air quotes.”

“And?”

“And that typically means you’re not happy.” Silence. “Are you happy?”

“I will be happy with the end of this conversation.”

“So I’ll take that as a no.”

“T-t. Tell me Brown, is it possible to happy all the time? Is it really a bad thing to just be fine?”

“What makes you happy?”

“Taking down a bad guy. Executing a difficult move flawlessly.” Well, she did ask. “Out smarting Alfred.”

“Wait, really?”

“It’s quite difficult but possible. And very satisfying. Though the repercussions can make it not worthwhile. Alfred is not to be underestimated.”

“I believe that. Anything else?”

“Cooking. I enjoy it. I also like. . .” He looks as if he almost let something slip. “It makes me happy when I am spoken to. Not at. I don’t like it when everyone acts like they are just waiting for me to do something wrong. To be like my Mother. Or my grandfather.”

Silence draps over them like a heavy blanket. Stephanie holds her breath, fearful anything she said now would make Damian retreat back behind his walls.

“I worry my Father will never accept me. That he’ll always be pushing me to be something I’m not.” Her heart aches for him. Not having your father’s acceptance, or even questioning it, is a pain Stephanie knows all too well.

“He’s always going to push you to be more than you are. That’s what he does. Even to himself.” She tries to reassure him.

“No, what I mean . . . He wants me to be someone else.”

“Someone being . . .Tim?” He nods.

“Oh Damian.” It makes sense. The constant fighting and the harsh words with Tim. Stephanie always knew there had to be more to Damian’s dislike of the other Robin. She always assumed it was pride and jealously that drove him.

But it is more than that. Damian was raised to be perfect; to be the son that a man like Batman would want. Would accept. The training he must have gone through, to lose out on his childhood only to find it was for nothing. Damian came to find that his father already had the son he wanted in Tim. A boy that wasn’t even blood. And to top it off? To be seen with suspicion and always have your actions questioned by your father. 

Knowing you will never be what your father wants cuts deep. 

“I’m not the best person to talk to when it come to fathers. Mine is sitting in jail because of me.” Damian watches her with an unreadable expression. “I’ll never be what he wants. Mostly because he wants me to be a criminal. But it does hurt. Not having his acceptance.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I learned to accept myself. Because only I get to live this life. Not my father, not yours or anyone else. I know, that sounds cheesy.”

“You do love cheese.” She punches him lightly in shoulder.

“Jerk, we’re having a moment. Don’t ruin it.” The tension lifts just a bit. 

“The plan?” Damian asks.

“What? Uh, disown my father and live the best life possible as a way to give him the middle finger.”

“Apologies, I switched topics. I meant the plan for the clinic.” A nervous laugh bubbles up out of her. “The topic of fathers is a bit too heavy for lunch. And we do need to discuss what we’re going to do there.”

“Right, right. Well you are the man with the plan.” She waves her hands about. “So let’s hear it.”

“First, you need to read up on all charities Wayne Enterprise partakes in Gotham. I don’t expect you to be an expert on them. Just to be aware of how many.” Damian walks back to his desk to pick up several folders. The top folder outlines all the chairites. “Second, you need to learn about Martha Wayne Memorial Clinic and all who works there.” The other folders hold dossiers on the clinic and those who work there. Damian did this all last night? The man is a manchine.

“So how did this clinic get to bare your grandmother’s name?”

“Father bought it about eleven years ago. It’s always been a clinic, first built in the 1930’s. Exchange hands several times. A church ran it in the 80’s but was abandoned shortly after, crime in the area was too much to keep it running. After that it remained abandoned until Mr. Freeze took over it.”

“That’s when your Dad got involved?” Damian shrugs. 

“He didn’t have much in his report other than Victor was using it and he apprehended him, sending him back to Arkham. It would be two more years after that before Wayne Enterprise took it over.”

“Hmm, and the people working there?”

“The only doctor is Linda Po. She has lead the clinic for the past two years. By all accounts Dr. Po has had an unremarkable career. Retired army medic, four tours in Afghanistan.”

“Army medic is pretty remarkable. Especially in Afghanistan.” Damian detects the disapproval in her tone and sighs.

“I mean nothing stands out. No complaints. No awards.”

“Your dossier says she worked for Doctors Without Borders. Last tour was in the Amazon for five years. That’s impressive too.”

“Alright, I misspoke. It’s an impressive career of selfless service. Happy?” Stephanie is about to respond when Damian cuts her off. “Though I would remind you we need to be objective in this. For all we know she could be responsible for the disappearances.”

He has a good point. 

“Upon returning to the states she worked at Star City General for six years ago before coming to work at the clinic. She has normal performance reviews and no write ups.” Stephanie marvels at the ease in which he rattles off this information. “She runs a staff of four nurses and two administrators. Clean records on all of them. Their expense report is perfect as well. Never over, never under. Nothing stands out.”

“You think they’re too ‘clean’?” He shrugs.

“Maybe. We’re really speculating here.”

“Yeah. We don’t have much do we?” Damian doesn’t answer. “So motive? What do you think they’re doing with the missing people?”

“Why don’t you tell me? This is your case. I’m here for support.” The request takes her back a bit. He is right, this is her case. But she expected Damian to take over and lead. He always did whenever they teamed up. That attitude lead to many of their best fights.

So having Damian ceding control takes a moment for her to accept.

“Well, last time people went missing it was all part of an alien invasion. I don’t think that’s happening here.” Damian nods as he chews his lunch. “There is a black market for human organs.”

“I checked the finances of those working there. They all seem to be living within their means.”

“Off shore accounts? I doubt they’re doing anything other than blood work in that small building. With Maryanne, you saw signs she was taken when outside the clinic. They must tag the victims at the clinic for pickup later.”

“When we get to the clinic, I’ll introduce you and ask for a tour. That will get us in the lab.” Damian shows her his watch. “This will scan and test the security system.”

“What if they don’t allow us in the lab?” Damian grins at her as he leans in close.

“You really think anyone can deny me?” She should not be thinking of how handsome he’s become. But here she is, alone in his office, him close and looking at her like that. And her wondering how many hearts he’s broken. Or is he with someone?

“Right, uh, you always get what you want.” Her mouth is suddenly dry.

“Always.” He straightens himself, pulling away from her. Then Damian walks back to his computer. “Interesting. No matches between the lists.”

“That sounds more disappointing than interesting.”

“Interesting because the names on the forms with red dots are also missing from the clinic’s list. Even the ones we found shredded.”

“Sounds like we have stakeouts in our near future.” He nods as he grabs his coat. Stephanie gathers the folders as he gets ready.

“But first we need to go shopping.” He holds the office door for her. “After you.”

“Oh, this should be fun.”


	5. Long Nights

Chapter Five  
Long Nights

Running across rooftops is an excellent way to clear one’s head. And after the day Damian has had? He needs a hell of a lot of roofs. He only stops the self made gauntlet when he comes across a mugging. Damian might have been a little rough with them than was required.

As soon as the thugs are secured and he confirmed the victim was safe, Damian resumes his run. The day’s events replaying in his head.

Why did he tell Stephanie about his father forcing him to college? Why did he tell her anything personal at all? He wouldn’t even tell any of that to Dr. Thompkins.

Damian lands on the next roof with a thud, his muscles burning from the exertion. Not good if he’s supposed to meet Stephanie later. And now his thoughts are back to the blonde.

He needs to distract himself from that personal conversation. Why of all nights is tonight light on crime? Only one mugging so far and nothing over the radio. 

With a heavy sigh, Damian runs a hand through his hair. He looks out to the city in hopes the answers are somehow hidden there. Just as he expected, the view holds no answers.

Giving up, Damian decides to try meditating. He kneels down and let’s the tension leave his body as he clears his mind. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Empty the mind.

With every breath a calm begins to sink into his body. He lets his mind drift far away into the darkness. He tries to find the source of his frustration. There’s more to it than opening up to Stephanie. Identifying it will allow him to defeat it.

With a few more calming breaths he zeros in on the reasons for his angst. 

This wasn’t going the way he had hoped. 

Stephanie was one of the very few people Damian trusts. And he even respects her. Which is why he didn’t want her to know of his family issues. Just once he wanted to be around someone who didn’t know of his fight with his father.

Someone to be on his side.

And the first private moment he has with her? He cannot keep his mouth shut. Damian may not have told her everything but he said enough for her to figure it out. Stephanie is far more clever than she gives herself credit.

And once she does figure it out? Or Gods preserve him, hears about it from Grayson? Anyone within the family? Stephanie wouldn’t look at him the same. There will be disappointment in her blue eyes. 

At that thought a pit forms in his stomach. Dread. He’d really be alone after that.

All Damian can hope for is that their case is enough to keep her distracted. 

The case. Damian will admit he saw this as a chance to get away from Grayson’s watchful gaze and mothering. Though, if he is being honest, the chance to work with Stephanie again was the more tempting reason.

Despite their fights they did make an adequate team. No, adequate isn’t the right word. They made an exceptional team.

Case in point the tour of the clinic. Stephanie handled it with such ease and little direction from him. Even though in his office she was apprehensive. But the moment they walked in she was confident. That confidence coupled with her warm personality kept the nurses distracted while he did his survey undetected.

They played well off each other. He the disinterested billionaire’s son just there to appease his father and she the eager new employee with a plethora of ideas. The only hurdle was Dr. Po. 

The woman was curt and precise. And none too pleased with the impromptu visit. Damian didn’t want them prepared so his staff never called ahead. And his ploy worked.

**Earlier that day at the clinic . . .**

__

__

Stephanie and the head nurse chat ahead of him as they finally head to the lab. Damian does his part to appear disinterested as he followed them. So far they’ve viewed every inch of the top floor. The head nurse, named Linda, had done her best to take her time. 

It was telling that Linda didn’t let them linger in the Archive room. Nor go into detail about the paper forms. Despite Linda’s attempts to be as vague as possible, Stephanie was able to get her to slip. Stephanie was rather artful in her technique. Damian enjoyed watching her.

Watching her run rings around the head nurse of course. Not watching her physically. Even though he was pleased with the outfit he had picked out for her. Forest green is a lovely color on her. Brings out the brilliance of her blue eyes. Far better than that eggplant purple she normally sports.

Laughter between the two ladies interrupted his thoughts and Damian felt his face burn. Dammit, he became distracted. He doubled his efforts to listen to their conversation.

Linda was explaining that it was easier to dispose of the paper forms than using tablets and less likely for there to be theft. And the reason for the disposal was to adhere to HIPAA regulation. 

A lie. Easily picked up on thanks to his training. Stephanie offered a polite smile but Damian could easily read its meaning. She picked up on it as well.

When they entered the basement Stephanie innocently asked about the security system.

“Oh, I’m guessing that’s Wayne Tech Copperhead 4.2 security system? The best security system installed in all Wayne Enterprise owned buildings?” For added effect she beams at Damian as if she was hoping for praise from her boss for knowing the company’s product line. 

Linda laughed nervously. Either because she was about to embarrass Stephanie in front of her boss or because she was being forced to admit something. 

Damian moved closer to examine the gear when Linda started to explain why the security system wasn’t Wayne tech. According to her it was a holdover from when Mr. Freeze used the building. Never requested it to be changed since it works. And the clinic didn’t want to incur any additional cost for Wayne Enterprise.

Another lie.

Mr. Freeze always did build his own security systems. But what they are using is beyond his capabilities. And Stephanie was correct. Every building under Wayne Enterprise control has the latest Wayne Tech security systems. So it was changed without informing the company.

Linda moved them down the short hallway to direct their attention elsewhere. She explained the cold temperature was thanks to the system Mr. Freeze in stalled. It has been helpful in storing the blood and medicine. All of which are secured down here to stop thefts as well. Understandable.

Linda then made several attempts to open the door. But each time she entered the code a loud alarm would ring out. Linda apologized each time.

System could be a little faulty, she told them.

More lies.

Dr. Po eventually opens the door; their first encounter with her. She had been absent for the whole tour. 

Quite interesting.

Linda’s demeanor changed instantly upon seeing Dr. Po. Gone the smile, replaced with a grimace. The head nurse handed them over to Dr. Po and sped quickly away.

Stephanie’s charm had no effect on the doctor. Every attempt to get more information was rewarded with cool indifference. Dr. Po showed where the medication was held, the storage for supplies and the break room.

“Nice! Is that the new Lilly De Roe hand bag?” Stephanie moves towards the purse laying on the couch. “These have been sold out everywhere!” 

Dr. Po snatched the purse away from Stephanie with lightening speed.

“It’s from her collection three years ago.” Dr. Po tucks it under her arm. “And it was a gift from my niece. You wanted to see the lab?” 

And with that the doctor exited the room, purse still tucked under her arm. Damian and Stephanie shared a look behind the woman’s back.

The lab was very much a lab. Some blood work was done here according to Dr. Po. But mostly the blood samples are just stored here to be sent elsewhere. Dr. Po gave the names of the three medical centers they use with no issue. That indicated to Damian that the blood work probably plays little in their selection. It might very well just be the living situation of those seeking help.

Stephanie tries her best to get more information out of the doctor while Damian scans the room. Nothing seems out of place. The blood samples are stored in a windowless fridge and he couldn’t just open it.

At least not now.

Damian checks his watch and saw the scan had completed. He makes a show of looking at his watch and explained they have other engagements. That was the first time he saw Dr. Po relax. She gladly lead them out of the room. 

Stephanie, once the doctor was in front of her, gave Damian a wink. Reading her movements, Damian prepared himself for what was coming.

Just before coming to the exit, Stephanie tripped in her heels and in an attempt to steady herself, ended up hitting the wall beside Dr. Po. That startled the doctor enough to give Damian an opening to place a tracker on the purse.

That purse is well beyond the means of Dr. Po and her staff here. So either that purse doesn’t belong to her or she is getting paid under the table.

**Present. . .**

And that leads Damian back here. After leaving the clinic they toured a few more charities before returning to his office. From there Damian worked on code to break into the lab while Stephanie monitored the purse. 

It left as soon as they did. Then it went on a shopping spree. Stephanie tracked it to several high end stores, membership only clubs and now it’s at an exclusive spa. And that’s where it’s been for the last several hours.

Since the code to break into the lab is taken longer than Damian will admit, they agreed to meet up later to see who owns the purse. When that was agreed to, Stephanie left to take care of her job at Happy Burger. 

Thankfully it didn’t take much convincing for her to quit that job. Stephanie can be stubborn. Though she seemed to grudgingly agreed to it, she couldn’t hide her relief. Hopefully by the time this is done she will accept working here full time.

Maybe he could buy Open Doors?

Spoiler lands beside him with a thump.

“You’re way too loud.” He hisses at her less than graceful entrance. The blonde just shrugs.

“So sue me.” Damian stands to look at her. “I take that back. Please don’t sue me. I can’t afford the lawyers.”

“Here’s the plan.” Damian chooses to be kind and ignores her. “The purse hasn’t moved yet. So we’ll watch the building.”

“Can’t you throw down your rich boy card and get us in?” 

“It’s female only. And before you say anything. It’s also members only. To join you have to be invited and pay a $10,000 entry fee.”

“Ha, you said $10,000.” He doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s a typical fee for such spas. “Crap, you’re serious. I hope they do taxes for that price.”

“Taxes?”

“Yeah, hate doing them. For that cost they better do ‘em for me and all the food better be free.” Of course she would say that. Damian bites his cheek to stop his snide comment. He doesn’t want her thinking he was an immature child. But Gods, does she make it difficult. “And you better get to keep the robes!”

“$10,000 is the entry fee. It’s $50,000 a year for the membership.” Stephanie’s jaw drops. Then closes only to open again. Hmm, he made her speechless. He doesn’t hide his smirk.

“I hate rich people.”

“Noted.” Damian did not hear any heat in her words but it still stung. He isn’t sure why it does. And he isn’t going to dwell on it. “There are two exits. I’ll take the front entrance and you will take the back entrance.”

“Right, so when we see the owner we grab them?” 

“No, that would gain us nothing. We’ll trail them. Learn why they were at the clinic. It is possible there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“So reasonable that they took the time to hide this person?”

“Don’t. I know you’ve been out of the field for a long time but you know better. Don’t rush this.” She crosses her arms over her chest. Damian tries to keep his eyes at a professional level. Did he make the suit too tight? Or has she always been so . . . Curvy?

Dear God. He needs to move now.

“We’ll solve this Spoiler. Don’t worry.” He takes off for the spa. Stephanie keeps up pretty well. That’s pleasing to Damian. 

“I have no doubt of that. I just worry about Maryanne and those missing.” She says nothing more after that. They get to the spa and take their spots. Stephanie reports seeing people leave, staff. And cleaning crew entering. All the while the purse doesn’t move.

“Spoiler, move closer to the spa and see if you can scan for their security system.”

“Understood.” That makes him smile. No questions. No second guessing. Just getting the task done.

“You’re going to love this!” He can just feel her grin.

“Security system is the same as the clinic’s?”

“W-what? How? Never mind. You ruined it.” Now he can feel her pouting. “Yes, it’s the same.”

He stops himself from saying ‘of course’. Damian has grown from his bratty ways and will not rub it in. Even though it was clearly obvious that the only reason for her excitement would be because the security systems are the same.

Thirty minutes pass and a steady stream of members leave. But no movement on the purse. Damian begins to worry the tracker might have been found. Or fell off somehow. He doesn’t know which is worse.

“So who owns this overpriced spa?” Stephanie’s voice comes over the radio. 

“Megan Goller.” He hears Stephanie swear. “What? You know her?”

“Don’t act so surprised brat.” She mumbles something else that Damian cannot pick up. “Is she the wife of John Goller?”

“Her son? No. Her husband’s name is Michael.” More swearing. “What is it Spoiler?”

“Uh, nothing. Hopefully.” Damn her, she’s not making any sense.

“Purse is moving!” Damian checks and sees the purse is finally moving. “My bet she exits your way.”

A black limousine pulls up just as Megan Goller exits the spa. Under her arm is the purse in question. 

“Follow?” Stephanie asks.

“Follow.” He takes off, keeping the vehicle in his sights. Occasionally he’ll look out to see where Stephanie is. Just to make sure she didn’t trip, fall off a roof or get caught is a clothesline. 

Surprisingly she does well on her own. Damian guesses she really did keep up with her training. That thought warms a deep, hidden part of him. A part he really shouldn’t be focusing on right now.

The limousine pulls into a luxury condominium. That was expected, it’s where Megan Goller lives. They meetup on the building across from the condo. From here they have a view of Megan’s living area.

They wait and see the woman enter. She drops the purse on a table and a maid immediately picks it up to store it on a wall displaying multiple purses. After that Megan disappears into her room.

Seeing how they’ll gain nothing here, they return to the safe house.

“So we do what now? There’s clearly a link here.” Stephanie asks as soon as they entered.

“Correct. I’ll finish the code to break in the lab.” Damian says this as he takes a seat at the computer.

“Not the spa as well?” Damian tries to focus on the code before him and not on the blonde woman combing her hair with her long fingers. 

“No, I’ll work the clinic end. You’ll work the spa end.”

“Spa end?” She takes off the hooded cape, revealing her figure. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Not unless you hate dating billionaires.”

“You want me to seduce her son?” What? Damian almost chokes . . . On what? Air? This woman just made him almost choke on air! And why did she sound excited? Damian makes a mental note to look into John Goller.

“No. Not him.” She cocks her head to the side and Damian begins to second guess himself. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself. “I meant me.”

She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even gag. She just stands there. Motionless. This is much worse than he expected. Hundred different excuses to back out of what he just said rush through his mind. None will save his pride.

“But I work for you.” She whispers to him. He doesn’t question it. It’s Stephanie after all. Let her do her thing. “Aren’t there rules against that?”

“Yes, for everyone else.” She rolls her eyes. “We’ll pretend to date, that will get you access to all social events. Being connected to me will be too tempting for any of those harpies to pass up. Your problem will be turning down invitations.”

“Harpies? Isn’t that a bit much.”

“I was being kind.”

She sighs heavily and rubs the back of her long neck. Soft curls tumble over one shoulder. He’s glad she kept her hair long.

“So I’ll be a source of gossip. Wonderful.” That wasn’t a no from her. “But will she even invite me into her spa? And I cannot afford those fees.”

“You’ll never pay them. That’s the thing, I need you to start spending money, lots of it. It’ll get her attention and she will not pass up an opportunity to get her claws into a Wayne.”  
One graceful eyebrow arches at that comment.

“You’ve been to one of our galas. You’ve seen how those people are.”

“Ah yes, the famous Wayne galas. Tim hated going to those. I didn’t mind the few he did drag me to. My favorite was the spring gala, the one where live cherry blossom trees were brought in at Wayne Hotel.” She sighs dreamily. “What a view up there at the top, those blossoms were a nice contrast to the Gotham skyline. It was a perfect night.”

“You and I experienced two very different events. That gala was a disaster.”

“If I remember correctly that was the first gala your father let you go to.” Damian nods in agreement. “And I remember seeing a trail of girls chasing after you.”

“It was horrible. I almost thought they had some of my mother’s training, always appearing out of nowhere. I couldn’t shake them. And the older women had no shame! Pushing their daughters on me. Some, pushed themselves!” 

“Seriously? That’s gross. I hadn’t realized that was happening.” Damian’s eyes widened for a second before he stammers out a clarification.

“They saw me as a way to my father. It was more of an annoyance than anything. Nothing more.”

“Hmm, still you were like twelve?”

“Again, it wasn’t anything more than an annoyance. Not compared to now.” Damian tries to reassure her.

“So now instead of trying to use you to get to your father, they are just trying to get to you? How is that better?” Why does that make her laugh? 

“I am a legal adult now.”

“Did they even wait a full hour after you turned eighteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“What?”

“Seventeen is the age of consent in this state.” Now she bursts out laughing, no longer trying to contain it.

“You know what the age of consent is? Oh, that makes me happy!”

“It does?” A cynical part of him feels this is a trap. But anything that makes her happy is a curiosity that he cannot resist.

“Yeah, shows you were a typical, teenage male. Bet you had that birthday circled on your calendar, counting down the days.” He did. But he’ll be damned if he ever tells her that.

“T-t. Whatever, the galas are still an annoyance. Though I don’t mind older women.” He risks a glance at her. She raises a brow but shows no other reaction. “Just when they are my father’s age. That is unsettling.” Feeling he is giving too much away, Damian rushes on. “But the gala in question, with the blossoms, was a mess. Literally.”

“True, those blossoms did get everywhere. I cannot imagine the cost it was to get live trees on top of that hotel.”

“Synthetic. They where fake.”

“No way! Those pedals felt real!”

“Yes, as any proper synthetic would. They were made to fall off slowly, in a timed manner. But the side effect was that they dissolved leaving a . . . rather difficult residue to clean. The marble floor was permanently stained. That was the last time Grayson organized a gala.”

“Hmm, that explains the odd spots I found on my dress. I had thought I spilled something on it.”

“So you thought it was a typical night?” He catches the balled up hooded cape thrown at him with ease.

“Brat!” But she’s laughing so he relaxes a bit. “So what’s the deets on our hookup?”

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes. Damian tries very hard not too.

“None. I never give any _details_ on my girlfriends.”

“Ooooh! Girl. _Friends_? Tell me more!” Never. Never in a million years. He tries to convey that through his eyes. “Fine. That means I’ll just make something up.”

“Brown. Don’t.”

“Why? I have to say something! A poor, older, woman dating a Wayne? And not just any Wayne. The actual son of Bruce Wayne. You may never have told details but your girlfriends most certainly did.”

Point taken.

“What did you say when you dated Tim?” Her face drops and he instantly regretted that question.

“Well, Tim wasn’t as stalked as the other Wayne boys. Tim was his own repellent.”

“How so?” Of course Drake would have figured out a way to get those gold diggers away from him.

“He talked about work. A lot. All about spreadsheets and what not. Though it did attract all the suits. Which can be just as bad . . .” Damian shakes his head no. “Ok, you’re right. They’re not as bad.”

“Brown, let me finish this code. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.” Stephanie watches him for a bit, clearly wanting to say something more. But for whatever reason she doesn’t.

“Yeah, I need rest. That was a lot of roofs. Mind if I crash here?” 

“You don’t need to ask.” And for the first time since reuniting with her, Stephanie smiles at him. His fingers stop typing and his whole world focuses on that genuine smile. 

“Thanks.” She says before leaving. He’s not sure why she’s thanking him. This safe house was meant to be stayed in. But he’ll take it. 

Damian waits for her to disappear before allowing his own smile to emerge.


	6. Spiderwebs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments. It really does fuel me! Enjoy!

Chapter 6  
Spiderwebs

Sleep eludes Stephanie this night. Her mind races with the day’s events.

Maryanne is still missing. 

Damian asked her out. 

They are nowhere near finding out what is happening to the missing homeless. 

Damian asked her out. 

She quit her job.

Damian asked her out.

Granted, it’s all for the case. A typical ploy she’s done before. But those cases had fake names, foreign locations where she wasn’t known and an end in sight. This . . .well? She’s not sure what to make of this.

On the surface it makes sense. An exclusive membership only spa would be easily accessible to someone like a Wayne. Or in this case, someone connected to a Wayne.

Dick isn’t currently with anyone if she remembers the tabloids correcutly.

She only glanced at them in checkout lines. Stephanie would never pay money for such gossip. Never.

But as far as she knows, Dick would be the better choice. They are closer in age, he’s known for dating women ‘beneath his station’. 

Stephanie would be loathed to admit she kept tabs on the team via tabloids. Wayne’s were always front page fodder and it was all too tempting to not flip through to see what they were up too.

Dick graced the covers almost as much as Bruce did. Tim only did a few times, once in thanks to his engagement to Tam. 

Jealousy bites at her. It was still a sore spot even after all this time. Even if it was a cover story it still stung.

Which proves her point. These things should not be done haphazardly. There needs to be planning, cover stories, roll playing to test said cover stories. This feels too last minute.

Though, Damian isn’t one to rush into things and he is an evil genius who can derive a full plan in a matter of seconds. She needs to trust him. 

But the tabloids. She remembers seeing him pop up more and more lately in the glossy pages. Yet it was never about who he was dating. Damian wasn’t joking about not giving any details on his love life. He gave nothing away.

And the tabloids eat that up. They treat the youngest Wayne as a dark tantalizing mystery. Their pages entice readers with ‘steamy’ speculations and ‘rare’ photos. There have been stories about Damian leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. A foreign princess, an Amazon, an alien princess, lots of princesses, and a few models/actresses. 

All bogus.

At least as far as Stephanie can tell. Seriously, how many women could a 20 year old have dated? She would like to think she knew him enough. Even after a five year absence.

She’s getting distracted. It doesn’t matter who he has dated before this moment. What matters is what the tabloids will do once this gets out. Can she recover from this? Damian sure as hell will.

Tabloids harassed her for months after Tim’s death. It took Bruce laying down the hammer to finally get them to back off. Her only saving grace was Tim’s good boy reputation. He was considered boring compared to his brothers and adopted father.

God. This will not end well.

She dated Tim. He died. Now she suddenly left her job to work for his younger brother and is ‘dating’ him? And is supposed to be spending his money?

“Nope!” Stephanie throws off the blankets and storms back out to speak with Damian.

He hasn’t moved in the last two hours, still behind the computer, face illuminated by the screens light. He looks different here. Damian hasn’t notice her yet. This offers a rare moment to see Damian unguarded.

The room is dark, save for the computer screen. The light from it bathes his face in a soft blue, sharpening his features. He looks older. Tired. And not just from exhaustion. He’s tired mentally.

Suddenly Stephanie is reminded of their previous conversation at his office. 

He was Batman at one point. And his father clearly took it away from him. That must have been devastating. Damian, when younger, never wasted a chance to remind everyone he was going to be Batman.

The only thing she can see as a reason for the cowl to be taken is that someone died. She doubts Damian killed anyone. He may be a lot of things, but he isn’t a murderer. So someone must have died on his watch.

It couldn’t be a bystander or hostage. Collateral damage has happened before. Even to Batman. So it has to be a villain. How many times has one of those bastards hung on a ledge pleading for help?

Too many times.

How many times have they had to go save those bastards?

Maybe Damian finally thought one too many times?

She wouldn’t put that pass him. Nor would she blame him. A deep dark part of her would secretly hope they would arrive too late to save those monsters. She certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep.

That has to be it. But who? Stephanie tries to run through the villain gallery of Gotham to see who hasn’t made an appearance lately. Two Face has been quite, as well as Riddler and there are rumors Deathstroke was finally killed.

Blackmask as been missing as well. She remembers the gang war that broke out with his disappearance. Did Damian. . .Is that monster finally gone?

A chill runs down her spine. Memories of that sick monster curl inside her mind and a panic attack starts to emerge. 

She needs air.

She needs to get out.

Stephanie turns away, Damian suddenly forgotten as she heads for the roof. She doesn’t hear Damian calling out as she rushes out the door.

The air is cool and soothes her somewhat. She had to get out. To get away from those walls. They felt like they were closing in on her.

Remember your lessons. Deep breaths. You’re safe. Safe. She hears Tim’s voice.

A warm hand gently lays between her shoulder blades. The heat from it sinks into her, grounding her. Damian says nothing. But he lets her know with his simple action that she’s not alone.

They stay like this for awhile. Him patiently waiting for her and she gathering her pride.

Stephanie knows she shouldn’t be ashamed. Trauma is difficult to shake. 

In what felt like an eternity, the panic subsides and she’s ready to face him.

Yet there is no judgment in his eyes. Just an understanding. And that saddens her. Naively she feels he’s too young to be understanding. But she was 16 when she was tortured by Blackmask.

She can only imagine what the grandchild of Ra’s Al Ghul has been through.

“Ready to go back inside?” He asks her. Voice is soft, as if he is worried he might spook her. She can only nod. Damian takes off his hooded cape and drapes it over her. That’s when she realizes she’s barefoot in a sweatshirt and shorts.

What a sight she must make.

Damian leads her back inside and to the couch. Once settled, he heads to the kitchenette. Stephanie watches Damian as he prepares tea. It is surprisingly soothing to watch him perform this task.

And quite domestic.

That makes her smile.

“Here.” He hands her a mug of steaming tea. It smells wonderful. Stephanie takes it with her thanks and blows on it. Damian takes the seat on the other side of the couch, silently sipping his tea.

He waits for her to be ready.

“I haven’t had a panic attack in awhile.” Her voice sounds so foreign to her. Damian just nods. “I guess the stress of this case is getting to me. I forgot about how stressful this all was.” 

It’s a half lie. One she hopes he believes. Stephanie doesn’t believe either of them are ready to discuss what happened during his time as Batman.

Still nothing from him.

“I guess that seems foolish.”

“There’s nothing foolish about this.” He finally says. “We will solve this. And no matter what happens. You are not at fault.”

After that they drink in silence. The tea is like a balm and begins to lull her to sleep. Mugs are collected and they sit a little closer. Last memory of that night, is her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.

When Stephanie wakes she’s tucked into her bed and for a second she wonders if she dreamed everything.

Sore muscles ache as she gets up. Nope, she did just run across a whole bunch of roofs. And snuggled with Damian after a mild panic attack. She cannot stop the blushing at the thought of him carrying her to bed and tucking her in.

Stephanie imagines him cursing her weight and depositing her like a sack of potatoes. No, he was very sweet last night. And it’s obvious he didn’t dump her onto the bed.

Should she go out and see him? Take a shower first? God, this is suddenly awkward. 

Deciding to rip the bandaid off, Stephanie makes her way to the living area. Damian is already dressed. He is wearing a white dress shirt, top buttons open revealing a tease of his toned chest. He wears his sleeves rolled up in a relaxed manner. And slacks that fit his lean figure wonderfully.

Stephanie blinks away her thoughts as he walks to her, offering her a cup of coffee. She gives her thanks and begins to prep it to her liking. Damian sits back down at the table, resuming his reading from a tablet while drinking his own cup of coffee.

What time is it? Stephanie looks at the clock hanging on the wall.

11:45!

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to sleep in!” 

“I tried to wake you but you slapped me away and called me Tim.” He doesn’t sound pleased. Wonderful way to start the day. “So I decided it best to let you be.”

“Damian I . . .”

“Are you good? Do you want . . .” He glances at the clock. “Lunch? Or can we go over the plan?” Well, there goes sweet Damian from last night. Replace with normal grumpy Damian. Probably for the best. She knows how to handle grumpy Damian.

“We can talk while I make lunch.” He only does that t-t sound. “And thanks for last night. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Do not apologize.” Damian realizes that came out harsher than he wanted. He softens his tone. “We are all scarred in this family. It’s what links us. And it’s a burden we share.”

“Right.” That’s all she can say. The word family weighs heavily on her. She wants to say he shouldn’t include her. But something tells her that would upset him.

“There is a charity gala tonight. Hosted by Earth Guard to raise money for the Amazon rainforest devastated by the recent wild fires.” 

Stephanie takes the offered tablet as she sits down at the table with her bowl of cereal. Damian thankfully says nothing.

“This will be an excellent opportunity to introduce you. Media will be there as well as all of Gotham’s richest families. The only thing they love more than their wealth is a chance to show off said wealth. And giving money to a ‘noble’ cause is one way to do just that.”

“Let me guess, they compete to see who donates the most?”

“Yes. Last year the Goller family actually beat my father in his donation. It was the talk of the town for weeks. This year will be my chance to crush them.” Damian slams a clenched fist into the table. Then he remembers himself and quickly moves on. “And also a chance for you to meet Megan Goller.”

“But of course.” She mimics a posh, stuck up British accent. “I suppose it’s all in good sport. The Amazon gets saved and you all get bragging rights. And tax write offs. Cheers!” Damian is anything but amused.

“Stephanie.” Oh no. He used her first name. That’s serious. “You will be surrounded by pettiness, selfishness and narcissists with way too much time on their hands. Money is like water to them. Easily accessible and abundant. Try to stowaway your indignation. No matter how much you think it’s justified.”

“I know Damian. I’ve been to these type of events before, remember?” Something flashes across his eyes at that comment. And Stephanie swears she can see a bit of blush on his cheeks.

Damian clears his throat.

“Yes, but that was with Tim. And by your own admission, he was able to repel the high society types. You will be going with me. As my more-than-just-one-time date.” He leans in closer to her, his voice dropping. “They will swarm you like locus.”

“I forgot how dramatic you can be.” Stephanie says as she digs into her lunch. Damian sighs dramatically, either on purpose or because he really cannot help himself. Stephanie isn’t sure.

“The goal is to endear yourself to Megan Goller. Or at least a member of her spa. You won’t succeed with an attitude.”

“I got it. Don’t worry. Now what about our hookup story?”

“Don’t call it hookup.” Right, that kind of thing would be beneath someone like Damian. “We reconnected because of your work with Open Doors. Wayne Enterprise is going to give a large donation in honor of Drake on the 5th year anniversary of his death. And I’ve given you the job due to your experience with charities. While working together we’ve grown closer.”

“The best lies are buried in truths.” Stephanie sighs out. She isn’t a fan of the idea but it is plausible. “This sounds similar to a romance novel. So people should buy it.”

“Should? We need to play this right so people will buy it.”

“So what’s the end game?”

“Hmm?” He slowly sips his coffee. He actually looks confused.

“How do we breakup?” He swallows, taking a moment to think.

“You’re the expert on these romance novels. You tell me.”

“Right, I guess we’ll go with irreconcilable differences?”

“Are you planning on proposing to me?” He has that smirk again. Stephanie ignores how handsome he is right now.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see.” She’s not flirting with him. This is just teasing. His smirk grows and his eyes flash at her. “So we got a back story!” She pulls back, suddenly aware that at some point they came closer to each other.

“Yes. You won’t move in with me. Things are rather new between us.”

“Too new for sex as well.” He chokes on that. And Stephanie wonders if she could drown herself in her cereal bowl. Why did that just come out? Luckily Damian composes himself rather quickly.

“Obviously. And even if that were not the case. That is a topic we never discuss. With anyone.”

“Ok, ok. Sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t apologize.” He barks at her, his face red. “Keep the personal things private. You’re not a gold digger nor am I some prize you feel the need to brag about. This will help keep your reputation.”

So Damian had thought this through. And was trying to ensure she came out of this unscathed.

“Thanks Damian.” That shocks him. Confusion flashes across his face. “For looking out for me here and for putting up with me.”

“It is trying.” He grumbles. “But you are . . . a friend. And these people need help. Now we need to get ready for tonight.” He stands up to wash their dishes. Putting distance between them.

“When is the event?” 

“8PM. But we’ll arrive around 8:30.”

“Ok, that gives me time to let Open Doors know about your donation.”

“Already done.”

“Really?” Mr. Lamont must be ecstatic. “Oh, that reminds me. I met John Goller yesterday. Last year he donated to Open Doors our new kitchen equipment and was looking to make another such donation. We’re supposed to meet tomorrow to discuss it.”

“Keep the appointment. You’re still volunteering there.” After a short pause he continues. “I wasn’t aware John was back. He took off a few years ago after a fallout with his mother.”

“What happened?”

“Not sure. But out of those within my social circle, John was always tolerable.” Then in a softer voice. “Reminded me of Drake.” 

“And you found him tolerable? Do tell.”

“He shares Drakes naiveté.” She did ask. Then Damian changes topics on her. “We need on focusing on getting you ready for this event. That means shopping, hair, makeup. Everything.”

“And that will take all day?” 

“Head home and take a shower. I’ll see you in an hour.” Stephanie didn’t like his dismissive tone. But after everything, she chooses to ignore it. 

“Fine. I’ll see you in an hour.” Stephanie waves him off as she walks away. 

“You will need comfortable shoes.” Damian calls out to her without looking up from his cleaning. This comment gives her pause. She cannot help but feel that was an ominous warning.

Later that day . . .

Damian waits outside Stephanie’s apartment door, listening to her shuffling about. He gave her an hour. What could she be doing?

As if that last thought summoned her, the door is thrown open. She’s wearing an oversized shirt that hangs off one shoulder and leggings. Legging! 

She has amazing legs.

Damian isn’t ashamed to admit that. It’s the truth. But still, doesn’t she see what he’s wearing?

“Comfortable shoes.” She holds a pair of red flats. With skilled hands she pops on each one. “Comfortable clothes.” She waves her hands down her sides as if to answer his mental questions. 

Damian needs to check himself. He’s clearly too easy to read around her.

“I assume this means you’re ready?” She grabs her purse and sunglasses before locking up.

“Let’s go!” Stephanie gives him a warm smile before taking the arm he offers her. “Where to first?”

“The place we’re going will handle everything. According to Nora, my executive assistant, Megan will be there as well.”

“So this is where I’ll meet her?” 

“Doubt it. She’ll have her own dressing suite and staff to attend to her. But we don’t need for her to see us. Just knowing we are there will be enough to make her curious. And that’s what we are after.”

“We want her to approach me.” She says with a grin. At that moment Damian realizes how much he missed working with her. She leans into him as they exit the building, teasing the lurking paparazzi.

And his smile at her actions is only because she’s playing her part well. Has nothing to do with how nicely she fits against him. Damian leans in closer, he’s finally taller than her, and breaths in her floral shampoo. For the cover story. Obviously.

“Last we went shopping you claimed you were going to request the most expensive dress.” He opens the car door for her before getting in himself. “Yet you never did.”

“I didn’t ask because we really didn’t have time. I’m surprised you’re bringing it up.” He gives her a knowing smirk. And as he expected, she picked up on that. “What did you do?”

“Just fulfilling your wishes. I’ve arranged for the most expensive dress to be brought to our dressing suite.”

“That should draw some attention. Did we get the biggest dressing suite? Whatever that is.”

“No, we don’t want to overplay our hand. And you’ve never tried on clothes before purchasing?”

“I have. But never in a dressing suite. I’ll assume it’s as big as my apartment and will make me loath the rich more.”

“Well, if it doesn’t inspire feelings of loathing from commoners then it’s failing at its true purpose.”

“Har har.”

Their arrival at the high end store causes a flurry of action. Several other guest were waiting to be served but a Wayne never waits. They are immediately sent to a dressing suite, eyes of the other guest watching. They whisper excitedly at the idea of witnessing some juicy gossip.

Damian and Stephanie are escorted to a private dressing suite that is indeed the size of a small apartment. One corner was decked out with white curtains and lighting equipment. An impressive setup for anyone looking to do a photo shoot. Next to that was a beauty station for hair and makeup.

Opposite of the beauty station is where the actual dressing room is, blocked by thick black curtains. A plush chair, sits nearby in front of tall mirrors. Beside the chair is an end table with champagne and little cakes at the ready. 

Two ladies are already there waiting to assist them, Molly and Sarah. Once they ensure Damian and Stephanie are settled, the women leave to bring in the outfits selected. When gone, Damian walks over to pick up a champagne flute. 

“Damian.” Stephanie’s stern voice is heard behind him. He rolls his eyes as he turns to face her.

“I am well aware I have a year before I’m old enough to drink.” He offers her the flute. “You’re going to need this.” 

She scoffs at this as she excepts the bubbly drink. Damian does love to play mind games. And Stephanie is an enjoyable target. She eyes him, assessing if he’s actually serious about his warning. He grins mischievously at her. That action makes her halt her sip of champagne.

Damian can see the dress being brought in behind her. Sensing this, Stephanie turns to face the hot pink nightmare. The ‘dress’ engulfs the two women as they wheel it in. Damian no longer will hide his amusement as he takes a seat.

“Have fun.” Is all he says as he gets comfortable in the chair. Stephanie downs the champagne.

She had clearly thought the ladies would come back with a dress draped in crystals or hand painted in gold leaf but not this monstrosity. It has layers upon layers of hot pink fabric making it difficult to see where the dress begins or ends.

Molly and Sarah both lead Stephanie behind the dressing curtain. He may not be able to see anything, but the sounds coming from behind the curtain is telling. It must be an awkward dance in the enclosed dressing room as all three try to navigate that dress. 

“This really is the most expensive dress?” He hears her asks for the tenth time.

“Yes, it was the center piece for Valentine’s spring collection! We’re luck to have been picked to host it while it goes on tour.”

“It’s a dress, how can it go on tour?”

“I know it seems silly but that’s what happens with these style dresses. They’re not meant for actual usage. This is from the spring collection. The theme was ‘Dreams in Harmony’.”

“I do feel like I’m about to past out into dreamland. God, I hate high fashion.” The ladies laugh good naturally.

“We haven’t even gotten to the shoes!” Molly pops out from behind the curtain to grab neon green stilettos that have gold chains on the back heels. Damian reaches for his phone. This needs to be documented.

After several attempts and a few close calls, it seems the ladies finally manage to get her into the shoes that go with the ‘Beast’, so aptly names by Stephanie. Damian readies the phone’s camera.

With a wobble she slowly exits the dressing room. Molly and Sarah by her side to steady her as he takes photos. No regrets.

“Just a few more steps. Don’t worry about the dress, it’s insured.” 

“A dress can be insured? I’m barely insured!” 

With a few more wobbles, Stephanie makes it to the center of the dressing area. She eyes the small platform in front of the mirrors but decides to not tempt fate.

“Well?” She tries to cock her hips as best as she can. Stephanie good naturally poses for Damian as he takes a few more photos. “Ok, enough. Now that I’ve crossed this off my bucket list, wear insanely expensive dress, I want this thing off.”

Damian puts his phone away and walks over to her. He circles her once, occasionally tugging on the many folds.

“You sure do not want to wear this at the gala tonight? You’ll be the talk of the night.” He says when he finally comes to stand before her.

“I’ll bet! But you’re going to have to wheel me in and place me in a corner somewhere. Preferably a dark corner.”

“Not by the buffet table?” She rolls her eyes at his typical jab.

“No, that’s your job. You’re going to have to bring me food and drinks. Lots of drinks.” Stephanie tries to face the mirror as gracefully as she can. Damian offers her support. He tries his best to steady her but has to fight the dress in order to find her waist. When his hands do find purchase, a shock of electric static jumps between them.

“Satisfied now?” He asks, his voice suddenly sounding deeper.

“Yeah, I can now say I’ve worn a dress worth more than what I make in a year.” He can barely see her over the brim of the large, puffy sleeves. “I really need to get out of this.”

Getting out of the dress takes almost the same amount of effort as to get in. But the ladies were not done. As soon as the Beast was whisk away, in comes a flurry of other outfits. These are more sensible and appropriate for the gala. 

It takes several hours to go through the endless parade of dresses. Yet Damian only became aware of the passage of time when his assistant texted him with a reminder of his dinner reservations. Has it really been four hours?

The curtain is thrown back dramatically as Stephanie steps out. She does several fashion poses to show off this latest dress.

To Damian, this is the best one. The red of the dress is flattering to her complexion. And the dress is backless with a boatneck and long sleeves. There is a split that allows for the right amount of leg to be shown. The entire dress fits her perfectly without being overly revealing.

Damian can tell it’s not lost on Stephanie that none of the dresses she tried were purple.

“Such a critic.” Stephanie murmurs as she runs her hands down her sides, his eyes following their path. He might actually agree to dance at this fundraiser. For the cover, of course.

“I think we have a winner here.” Molly says with clasped hands. “Come, let’s finish the dress off with some killer shoes!” She helps Stephanie in some silver high heels.

“I didn’t think that was possible. Heels that don’t hurt!” Stephanie says to herself as she turns to face the mirror. “Not bad. What do you think?”

Damian has always thought Stephanie was pretty. Even when he was calling her a fat cow. But right now? Now she is beautiful. Damian finds he wasn’t ready for this. He is unsure on how to handle beautiful Stephanie.

“Hair needs fixing.” He hears himself say to Molly as he puts some distance between himself and Stephanie. “Sarah, you have my suit ready? I’d like to see it now.”

“Oh course, right this way.” Damian exit the room as Molly walks Stephanie towards the beauty station. Her expression is confused with a hint of disappointment.

Dammit.

He doesn’t need any assistance to dress. Nor a room as large. The plan was always to be in separate dressing suites but he couldn’t pass up the chance to see her in that monster of a dress. And after that? Well, he was already there so he might as well stay. Plus he needed to ensure she doesn’t sneak into a purple dress.

Damian sits alone in his room, unable to make himself return to her suite. He needs to collect him. Focusing on getting ready should help.

It doesn’t. Dressing takes no time at all. And Sarah informed him that Stephanie is still getting ready. She does have a lot of hair.

She’s not ready for another hour. Which is perfect, they have reservations in thirty minutes.

He readies himself for her at the main lobby. It doesn’t go unnoticed that there is a group of guest lingering near by. He sees a flash of blond behind some people and readies his complement.

Because he knows he blew it back there. But she did shock him. It wasn’t really his fault. Even he knows that’s stupid. He needs to do better.

She comes into view and all thoughts leave him. In fact, he becomes only aware of the vision before him. Molly went for light makeup, though heavier than what Stephanie normally wears, and kept her hair down.

Whatever Molly did made them shine and curl softly. His hand moves on its own, fingers stroke one of the curls. It is as soft as it looks.

“You approve?” She asks him. Approve? Of course he does. He just needs to tell her that.

“Yes.” He can feel everyone around him holding their breaths. They’re being watched, just say it. “You look beautiful.” Someone sighs behind him.

Well, better give them what they want.

Damian lifts her hand up to lightly kiss her knuckles. Eyes never breaking contact with her. Damian is sure several women behind him just swooned.

Stephanie, for her part, blushes as she bashfully bats her long eyelashes at him. She takes his offered arm with a demure smile and together they glide out the door. Cameras flash around as they hear several onlookers squeals in excitement.

Damian pays no attention to any of that. Stephanie is his focus. And having her by his side actually makes him look forward to tonight. This might be the first gala he enjoys.


	7. Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos and comments. They keep me inspired.

Chapter Seven  
Gilded Cage

Gotham’s elites always made themselves known to the ‘commoners’. Whether it was from tabloid antics, glitzy parties or media events showcasing their generosity they’ve bestowed upon the downtrodden.

It almost felt masochistic to read articles or follow them on social media. A reminder of a life that would never be achievable. Stephanie thought she was above that. She hung around the Wayne’s enough to see that life wasn’t much to get excited about.

Then Stephanie realized she has only experienced the Wayne life through Tim. Never has she experienced it through Damian. 

A waiter arrives with her Sunday brownie, the concoction in a gold chalice with two gold spoons. A diamond bracelet wraps around the base of the chalice. Gold leaf flakes are sprinkled on top of the mound of ice cream.

If the waiter said anything, it is lost to the sound of Stephanie’s jaw hitting the table. 

“We get to keep all of this, right?” She whispers to Damian. He leans in slightly as he pick up a spoon.

“The bracelet is meant to be kept.” Stephanie eyes it warily. She’s never been this close to diamonds that weren’t stolen.

“And the chalice and spoons?”

“If you want.” He says as he lightly pokes at the ice cream. “No one will stop you.”

“Nah, don’t want to look like some grifter. Plus it wouldn’t be classy.” She scoops up some ice cream, ensuring there is plenty of hot fudge and pops it into her mouth.

The flavors that bombard her tastebuds is overwhelming. Stephanie cannot hold back the groan as she sucks on the spoon.

“So much for being classy.” Damian teases her. But Stephanie doesn’t care.

“I think I just tasted heaven.” Damian eyes his spoonful curiously before eating it. He just shrugs.

“Tastes like ice cream with fudge.”

“Are you kidding me right now? This vanilla ice cream is so creamy and smoooooth.” Damian doesn’t look convinced. “And the fudge! I don’t have any words. Are you really not liking this?”

“I’ve never been fond of sweets. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiles at her. “I’m glad to finally introduce you to non-processed foods.” Stephanie ignores that comment, because he is right, and focuses on devouring this little piece of heaven.

Damian takes two more bites before giving up and letting Stephanie have the rest. She’s 99% sure she didn’t growl at him when he took a spoonful of fudge.

It took all her strength to not lick the inside of the chalice. Damian smirks as if he knew her internal struggle. Brat. But she cannot stop the smile on her face at being caught.

He does know her too well.

Damian lifts up her hand, thumb rubbing over her knuckles as his free hand picks up the bracelet. He holds her hand a little longer than needed once he clasps the bracelet around her wrist.

“Shall we?” He helps her up and together they leave their private dinner area. It wasn’t really private, just furthest away from the other dinners. 

These dinner guests were far better at hiding their interest. If Stephanie hadn’t been trained to spot the hidden, she would have thought the guests could careless about them. But she felt their eyes on her.

Especially as they leave. Damian’s long strides are confident and his presence demands respect. Stephanie tries to match him as best as she can. Shoulders back, chin up.

Once in the safety of his car does Stephanie finally let go the breath she was holding in.

“You’re doing quite well.” Damian says as he flips through gossip columns on his phone. He chuckles at something he sees. “We’ve already made top cover of several gossip columns.”

The column he shows her has a split photo showing when they are leaving her apartment and them exiting the clothing store. The title: Gotham’s True Cinderella Story.

“The hell! I’m not a charity case!”

“Nor was Cinderella. She was a nobleman’s daughter. Regardless of the loss of her father and abuse by her stepmother, she never despaired.”

“You’ve read Cinderella?” It had to because of either Grayson or Alfred.

“I had a tutor when I was younger. She would read me what she believed were ‘classics’. It was one of the few memories I have of my childhood that doesn’t involve . . . training.” Stephanie wonders if Damian wanted to use another word other than training. But he just gave her a rare glimpse into his time with his mother. Damian had always been careful to never speak of it.

“Well, you are correct that’s what happened to her. But that’s not how it’s used here.”

“Relax.” He tucks the phone way. “It’s a recycled headline. These columns are nothing more than click bate. You cannot expect the writers to be clever or creative.”

“True enough.” Stephanie checks herself in a mirror. Good, no chocolate smears. “Guess it could be worse.” 

“It’s early.” Damian starts the once Stephanie puts the mirror away. “Tell me about your experience with Drake.” 

“My what now?”

“What has been your experience with galas? Besides with the cherry blossom disaster.” Of course he clearly meant the experience with Tim and galas. Stephanie needs to get a grip.

“I remember posing for photos, the few reporters around would ask same canned questions. So would the guests, now that I think about it. Then Tim and I would always bail to go patrolling.”

“So that’s where you’d go.” He seems to mull this over. “I suppose that should have been expected. Drake never had the same responsibilities as a true Wayne.”

A flash of anger shoots through her.

“Tim may not have been blood but he was still part of the family Damian. Would you say the same thing about Dick?”

He grips the wheel tightly.

“You’re not including Todd?” He grumbles out. Stephanie glares at him. He knows Todd never went to such events. He sighs. “Grayson thrives on attention and would willingly attend. Even if father didn’t want him to, that wouldn’t have stopped him. Father thought it was best to put him to use.”

Yes, because that’s Bruce all over. Finding ways to use things and people to his advantage. Damian continues.

“I was never given the choice. As a Wayne, it was expected.” But Bruce let Tim slip away, even skip many of them. Stephanie never thought about Damian when Tim and her snuck away. She remembers seeing him surrounded by an adoring crowd. He seemed to be in his element. Snobbery among snobbery.

Did she misjudge what she saw?

“I’m . . . Sorry. I did not mean any disrespect.” Did Damian just apologize? “I have always found it frustrating to have to attend these events. It felt like a small penance I had to pay in order to remain part of the family.”

“I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive. Why don’t you tell me what I’ve been missing?”

“You must be cautious. Even the most innocent inquiry will have nefarious intentions. You will have no friends there.” 

An unsettling silence falls over them.

“Jesus Damian. That’s a bit much.”

“It’s accurate. People will only be approaching you because of me. Either as a means to get to me or find information about me. They’ll try to charm you into thinking they can be trusted. But if I breakup with you, they’ll act like they never knew you.”

“Well, I wasn’t looking for friendships here. But I’ll keep that in mind.”

“They’ll test you. Try and see if you’re more than just a fling. I’ve explained how we reconnected. I’ll follow your lead on how you want to approach our relationship.” 

“It’s like you said earlier, it’s still early. We’re still trying to find footing. It’s been awhile since either of us have been in a serious relationship.”

“Agreed.” They are greeted to a large media presence and a crowd of on lookers as they pull up to Gotham Botanical Garden. The media push against the barrier separating them from the red carpet as soon as the car comes to a stop. The flashing from their cameras blind Stephanie. It was never this bad with Tim.

Her door opens revealing Damian offering his hand. The sound of the cameras and the questions shouted at them becomes overwhelming. This is it. Once she steps out there will be no hiding, no more being anonymous. Everyone will know her as Damian’s date.

Her coworkers, friends, strangers. Bruce Wayne.

Stephanie feels her courage faltering.

Seeing her hesitation, Damian challenges her with a smirk. He clearly knows what will get her riled up. And he’s right. Stephanie cannot back out now. Damian would never let her live it down. And people are counting on her.

Stephanie takes his hand and lets him help her out of the car. Damian tosses the keys to the waiting valet before offering his arm to her. The moment she does, the cameras go off in a flurry and the questions reach a fevered pitch. Damian brushes it all off with practiced ease.

She can do this. With renewed strength, she strides down the red carpet, arm-in-arm with Damian. His steady and calm presence is the anchor she needs.

The large glass doors to the garden opens revealing a floral fantasy. Thousands of beautiful flowers line the lobby. The floral sent is sweet and pleasant. The doors close behind them, cutting off the noise from the outside giving the garden the feeling of a sanctuary.

Yet Stephanie remembers Damian’s warnings about those who will be attending. She fought Gotham’s worst without flinching. She can handle Gotham’s elite. 

An orchestra is heard playing in the background as they climb the stairs leading to the main area. Flowers hang from the entrance way as a floral curtain. Moving through it they are greeted to a marvelous sight. 

The place was already beautiful with the towering trees, exotic flowers, fountains scattered around and winding stone paths. The normal lights have been shut off, allowing round lanterns hanging in the trees to provide the area with a soft glow. It gives Stephanie the feeling of walking into another world. 

A woman carrying champagne greets them, her outfit a muted grey. Stephanie takes the offered champagne flute as she takes in the sights. In her admiration of the ambience, Stephanie doesn’t see the gaggle of guests approaching them.

Several men in suits swarm Damian with their board looking dates at their side. The men ask about his father, the business, his father again, if he can make it to some other event, if he went to a past event. On and on it went. Not one single question directed her way.

The urge to jump in and introduce herself is strong. But she doesn’t see an opening. She thought about trying to talk to one of the ladies but they never make eye contact with her and give the impression they wouldn’t respond. 

Throughout this whole thing, Damian makes a point to stand between her and the men, effectively blocking her from them. Or maybe he is blocking them from her?

Which is better? She’s not sure.

That’s when she notices it. None of these men are talking with Damian. Just at him. They poke and prod him for any information on his father or the company. And their bragging about expensive cars, trips or hot dates feel like they are trying to one-up him.

Stephanie wants to find some way to end this slow torture. For both their sake. And she finds her chance in the form of John Goller.

Perfect!

“Damian, sorry to interrupt. There’s John Goller over there.”

“Excellent, just who I was hoping to see. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us. Ladies.” The groups isn’t phased at all. They give their collected good byes before heading in the opposite direction. Do they travel everywhere like that?

“Thank you.” Damian whispers in her ear. “Avoid those men if you can. Their treatment of women I find lacking. And I don’t need you cracking skulls.”

“Yet.” She whispers back, grinning at him. He matches her with a smirk.

John Goller stands by himself, his back to a magnolia tree, champagne flute held in a tight grip. His whole persona reads unease and discomfort. His eyes scan the crowd as if he were looking for someone.

When they get closer he sees them. John looks confused at being approached until he realizes it’s Stephanie. He smiles at her and straightens his posture.

“Stephanie! Wonderful to see you here. I wasn’t aware Open Doors would be represented here.”

“I’m here as a guest.” She squeezes the arm of Damian’s she is holding, beaming at him. 

“John.” Damian offers as greeting. 

“Damian! It’s good to see you too.” John says as if he just noticed the young man by Stephanie’s side.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile.” Damian asks. The question hangs between them for a few seconds. John turns the champagne flute in his hands. That question made him uneasy.

“I’ve been in Europe.” He finally says. “It’s been good to break away from everything. What have you been up too?”

“The usual. The company keeps me busy.” Damian says with mild annoyance. He turns to Stephanie. “But with the help of Stephanie here I will become more active in my charities.”

“Really? Wayne Enterprise is working with Open Doors?” Stephanie is about to answer when Damian beats her to it.

“Yes, I want to make a donation in honor of Timothy Drake.”

“I wasn’t aware Tim was connected with them.”

“He wasn’t.” Stephanie interjects. “But Tim and I were close. And I know if he were alive he would be. Tim was kind hearted.” John nods in agreement.

“I never spent much time with him. But he always seemed like good people. Sorry for your loss.”

Their conversation is cut short by a burst of activity at the entrance. Several beautiful women dressed as Greek goddesses enter holding baskets of flower petals. They scatter them on the floor as a crowd gathers around them. 

John becomes even more uncomfortable. He looks away as soon as two male models enter. They are dressed in short togas, their muscular chest, arms and legs exposed, bronze skill shining. Between them is a blonde haired woman in a gold dress, much like the female models. Her hair is held up by golden wings.

Honestly, it’s a bit much.

“Goddesses!” The golden woman says. “Let the Ascension begin!” The women in the crowd become excited as the models begin to walk, surveying those around them.

“God, that woman has no shame.” John hisses out.

“I’m lost. What’s going on?” Stephanie asks.

“The ‘Goddesses’ will walk around to select those deemed ready for ‘ascension’. Meaning, they’ll get invited to her exclusive spa.” John does not hide his disdain. 

Exclusive spa? That’s John’s mother! Dear God, she looks good for her age.

“A rather dramatic way to invite new members to your mother’s spa.” Damian speaks up. “You want anything to eat?”

It takes a moment for Stephanie to realize he was speaking to her. He gives her a look that tells her the answer is yes.

“Yes, thank you Damian. You know what I like.” He nods and then leans in and time suddenly stops. Is he going to? Soft lips press against her cheek. Warmth fills her at the contact. And then the warmth is gone. Damian walks away to find the buffet table.

“So it’s like that then.” John mumbles beside her. “I must apologize for my mother. She loves making an entrance. No matter how tasteless.”

“No need to apologize for your mother John. Though I will admit she looks amazing.”

He scoffs at that.

“The spa has plastic surgeons. She never advertises that. And that’s the secret. It allows members to claim their ‘youthful’ glow is in thanks to spa treatments.”

One model walks up to them. She eyes Stephanie as she slowly examines her from head to foot. The woman says nothing while doing this. After what felt like forever, the model walks off.

Did she fail? Or pass? It was hard to tell.

“Don’t worry. It means nothing. My mother makes the final choice.”

“Hmm, I’m amazed the organizers are allowing your mother to do this.” Stephanie keeps an eye on the golden woman as she greets the other guests.

“I’m sure she told them this was the only way she would attend. And I bet she promised a large donation.” He sips the champagne. “Money is a powerful motivator.”

“How long has your mother been in the spa business?” John looks up as thinks.

“Two years?” He doesn’t sound sure. “But for a year before that, it was a fitness center. My mother had underestimated the amount of work required to run such a business and it failed. My father had to bail her out.” He says bitterly.

His openness about this personal information shows he is clearly bothered by it. And needs someone to talk to about it.

He stiffens as his mother glides over to them. She’s is even more impressive up close. Her skin is smooth and glowing. The male models by her side flex their oil slick muscles when they come to a stop. Stephanie hopes they stay clear of any open flames. 

“John, darling. I’m surprised you showed up.” She places well manicured hands on his shoulders and kisses each cheek. John gives her a weak smile.

“Mother, let me introduce you to . . .” Megan cuts him off, brushing him to the side as she comes closer to Stephanie.

“Stephanie. Brown.” She says her name slowly. Instantly Stephanie’s guard goes up. “Lovely dress. Molly and Sarah really are the best.”

“Yes, they were very helpful.” Megan smirks as if that comment is amusing.

“Yes, very.” He laughter is light as chimes but the sound crawls under Stephanie’s skin. She stands there awkwardly at a lost for what to say here. John gives her an apologetic smile.

“Megan.” Damian finally returns and Stephanie wants to kiss him for saving her. He hands Stephanie a small plate of chocolate strawberries. Megan watches the interaction between them. “I hope this is to your liking?” 

“It is. Thanks.” Stephanie says, her gratitude genuine. Megan’s smile is tight.

“Damian, wonderful to see you. Is your father here?” 

“He’s still hiking in France.” Megan hums in approval.

“He certainly does love his hiking. Must be why he’s in such amazing shape.” Gag her with a spoon. Damian is completely unfazed.

“If you will excuse us.” Damian wraps an arm around Stephanie’s waist. He turns them away from the Gollers, effectively dismissing Megan. Eyes burn into her back as they head deeper into the garden.

Damian leads them to a secluded bench tucked between large foliage. A small fountain bubbles behind it, providing white noise to block any eavesdropper.

“She’s fun.” Stephanie doesn’t hide her dislike.

“She’s interested.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. I felt like I was back in middle school, facing down the lead popular girl.”

“Glad to see you survived. You’re getting people’s attention.” She has? Word travels fast. Of course it is thanks to having Damian as her date. 

Stephanie bites into a strawberry, anything to distract her from the growing bitterness. 

“So what’s next? We rub some elbows? You sign a big check?”

“No, the big check is only brought out at events hosted by Wayne Enterprise. But we will make the rounds together, dance, view the floral arrangements and then I’ll leave you to hand over my check to the organizers.” 

“Dance, huh?”

“I rarely do, so it will be noticed. When I leave you, that’s when you will be approached. Remember, be vague and do not worry about pleasing them. That attitude will have the opposite effect.”

“So be dark and mysterious. Like you?”

“You find me dark and mysterious?” His tone is teasing.

“I am not going to respond. Your ego is large enough.” He rolls his eyes as she eats another strawberry. Damian does his best to not look at her when she does.

When the final strawberry has been eaten and the champagne downed, they begin to make the rounds. Everyone Damian introduces her to offer overly polite greetings. She can just feel they’re taking bets on how long she will last.

After a few rounds Stephanie becomes numb to their indifference to her. These people clearly do not think much of her and that is fine. The feeling is mutual.

Finally, Damian directs them to the dance floor where couples sway slowing to a soft melody. Damian walks her to the center, the dancers giving them space. With a gentle tug, he pulls her close. And just like that, Stephanie is dancing with Damian.

“Remember the last time we danced?” She says as they move across the dance floor.

“T-t. You mean when you dragged me around?”

“What did you expect. You were picking a fight with Jason. I had to separate you too.”

“He started it by bringing up my mother.” Ok, bad topic to bring up. The heat in Damian’s voice is real.

“I had no idea to the reason. If I’d know I’d left you alone.” That calms him. He seems a little sheepish even.

“No, it was for the best. A public fight like that would have been a PR nightmare. Besides, I got him back.” His smile is dark and brings a chill up her spine. Damian can be a nightmare himself. Whatever Jason said must have been major.

Now she’s curious.

“But you’ve improved your dancing since then. You have yet to stomp on my feet.”

“I stomped on you on purpose. You kept trying to get back towards Jason.”

“T-t. Excuses.” She shoves her shoulder into him teasingly. Damian responds in kind. They fall into a comfortable silence as they dance. The easy sway of their bodies melts the tension from her.

And it seems to have the same effect on Damian. The stiffness of his posture relaxes as he leads them. Damian presses her closer as he leans in. Butterflies invade her stomach.

This is all for the cover. She shouldn’t be this excited. A flash of hot pink come into her view, just over Damian’s shoulder, drawing her attention.

“Oh my God, Damian. There’s a lady here wearing the ‘Beast’!” 

“What?” He pulls away slightly, blinking down at her. Then he spins them to see the object of her surprise. A woman walks, albeit slowly, by the edge of the dance floor in the dress from earlier. “Look at you, a trend setter.” 

“It’s even uglier than I remember.”

“This seems like a good opportunity to take care of the donation.” They head in the opposite direction of the pink nightmare as a small crowd begins to gather. Neither want to be reacquainted with that dress.

Damian deposits her by the champagne tower before heading off. And just as he said earlier, the locus swarm her. A group of five women surround her. The leader of the group, a pretty redhead, speaks first.

“So who are you?” There is so much disrespect stuffed into that question that Stephanie wants to roll her eyes.

Here it comes.

“I’m Stephanie. And you are?” The group scoffs at that.

“Well that answers a lot of questions.” The redhead says as she flips her hair in such a cliché manner.

“Does it? Because I still don’t know who you are.” Then Stephanie goes for the jugular. “Damian never mentioned any of you.”

Embarrassment crosses her face as her crew gasp. The woman’s face turns as red as her hair. 

“Ladies, don’t be rude to the young Wayne’s guest.” That voice. Megan glides into view from behind Stephanie, the male models close by her side. With a wave of her hand she sends the woman fleeing. 

“Stephanie, sorry we didn’t get well acquainted earlier. My son speaks highly of you.”

“Yes, well I could do the same. His donation was of tremendous help to Open Doors.” Megan almost sneers at that but she catches it quickly.

“You mean the Goller donation. My son doesn’t have any money of his own.”

Geez, what do you say to that?

“Then I guess, thank you?” Megan’s brown eyes watch her coolly.

“My son says you know Damian through Timothy Drake.” A smug smile tugs at Megan’s lips.

“That would be correct.” Megan’s smile falls. That’s right, Stephanie is not going to fall all over you. You’ll get nothing from her.

“So you’ve known the Wayne’s long?”

“Yes, for years.” She emphasizes on the word years. The clenched fists give Megan away. It shows Stephanie is getting to her.

“Strange that this is the first time I’m hearing about you.”

“Not strange at all. I don’t really need the attention.” Megan throws her head back and laughs. 

“Oh, I like you.” Teeth flash at her in a predatory grin. Stephanie has faced down such grins before. But only as Spoiler. “Damian, you’ve hidden her well.”

Damian appears out of nowhere. His perfect timing makes Stephanie suspect he’s been watching them for awhile.

“Megan, thank you for looking after Stephanie while I contributed the _largest_ donation of the night.” Oh, he’s good. Damian is truly a master at this. “Ready to go?”

God yes. A million times yes.

Before they could leave, Megan suddenly sees someone she must speak to. She bids them fair well as she walks off. Most likely going to find out how much Damian actually donated.

Stephanie holds her questions until they are tucked away in his car.

“So, what’s your verdict.”

“We will have to wait and see. But she came to you on her own, that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, I think meeting John helped. She mentioned him to me.”

“You handled yourself well. Especially with Lori and her toadies. She was the redhead.”

“Ha! I knew you were hiding somewhere watching.”

“You needed the experience. And I did show up when you looked to be in trouble.”

“My knight.” She swoons dramatically. “Thank you for saving me from that mean, scary lady.”

“You never change.” He says under his breath.

“I’m serious. There is something wrong with that woman. She gave me a look that reminded me of Killer Croc. And how she spoke about her own son.”

“As bad as mine?” He muses at her.

“No, not even close. But still. Oh, John mentioned his mother has plastic surgeons employed at the spa. And it was a fitness center for one year before being turned into a spa. Which has been running for two years. Not sure that means anything.”

“Anything could be a lead. We’ll look into it.” 

Damian pulls into the nearest parking space to her apartment and shuts off the car. Stephanie cannot help but look for any hiding paparazzi they walk to her apartment building.

“So this me.” She hears herself saying. Damian raises an eyebrow at her comment. Of course he knows it is. “Thanks for inviting me. It was an experience.”

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Yes, because you were there. It really has been good, seeing you again.” Damian takes in a deep breath and walks up the final step, putting himself on the same level as her. The top step barely has enough space for the two of them, making them stand nose to nose. 

For the cover.

Firm fingers trail up her arm, brush against her cheek and then curl under her chin. Damian lifts her face up as he leans in. Her breath is lost as the realization sinks in. He means to kiss her. Not like at the gala, the chaste kiss on her cheek. Damian means to kiss her.

This is just for the cover.

Damian whispers something she struggles to hear. It almost sounds like he said ‘finally’. But all thoughts leave her once his lips make contact. It starts off soft, then the hand under her chin moves to grip the back of her head and he kisses her harder.

Of course he’s dominating. Well, she can play too. For the cameras of course.

Stephanie presses into him, her hands grip him tighter as she returns the kiss. The action causes surprise from Damian. He pulls away slightly, making her second guess herself. She’s about to apologize when Damian crashes his lips into her’s. He kisses her with added fervor.

She did not expect that but decides to follow his lead. In the back of her mind she wonders who taught him how to kiss. She owes them a beer. Damian is an incredible kisser.

And that’s how her neighbor Kyle finds them. Damian holding her leg over his hip, as her teeth nibble on his bottom lip. Making out like teenagers. Kyle coughs loudly to get their attention. At the sound they pull apartment quickly, as if burned.

“Kyle, hey! Uh, this is Damian.” Kyle isn’t interested. He looks at her with exhaustion, still wearing his scrubs from work.

“Nice to meet you, yada, yada, yada. Can I please enter? I’m about to collapse.” They move down the steps to let Kyle through, an awkward silence between them.

“So that was my neighbor Kyle. So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Damian nods, raking a hand through his hair. Stephanie knows that’s a sign he’s frustrated. Dread start to creep into her.

“Yes, because you work for me. I expect you in my office by 7am.”

“That early?”

“Yes Brown. That early.” And with that last command, Damian heads for his car. Stephanie throws a good night at his back. His only response is a wave. She stands there, watching him drive off and wonders.

Did they cross a line?

Stephanie feels numb as she slowly walks to the elevator. Did she push it too far? He didn’t push her away and even return the kiss. But if he rejected her, that would ruin their plans.

She tries to clear her mind as she pulls her keys out. She’ll apologize when she sees him tomorrow.

Stephanie enters her dark apartment with a heavy sigh. She flicks on the lights in her and nearly has a heart attack. Standing in her living room is none other than Batman.

“Hello Stephanie. We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The desert in this story is actually real. There’s a place in NY city that created such a Sunday so they could have the worlds most expensive desert. And you do get a Tiffany & Co. diamond bracelet with it. It held that title for awhile, I think a place in Las Vegas beats it now.


	8. Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter Eight  
Down the Rabbit Hole

Ok, this has happened before. Batman has made several visits to her apartment. No big deal.

Except she was making out with Damian just a few minutes ago. And Batman had to of seen. Or maybe he hasn’t? Stephanie tries to calculate how much time it would have taken Batman to move from the front of the apartment to . . .oh forget it. It’s Batman. Anything is possible.

“Take your shoes off and get comfortable. I’ll wait.” Yup, he definitely saw and this is definitely Dick. Which is slightly better.

Stephanie does as asked and drops her shoes with a thunk. She’s ready for whatever is coming.

But no reprimand comes, no scolding. Batman just pulls back the mask, revealing a very tired looking Dick. Stephanie’s eyes dart to her windows. The blinds are closed, obviously he would have taken care of it.

“I hate wearing this thing. It’s like a sauna under this mask. And don’t get me started on the cape!” Stephanie knows better than to let her guard down with Dick. His tactic has always been: you get more flies with honey than vinegar.

“Want some water?” Stephanie offers. 

“Yes, thank you.” Dick perks up at that. He moves to the small kitchen island as she gets him a glass of water. He downs it quickly. “I’ve read Damian’s reports on your case.” He lets a pause pass between them, allowing her to speak up.

“I bet those have been fun. I’ve always had to use a thesaurus when I did that.” Dick grins at that. “Don’t tell him I said that. He doesn’t need the ammo.” Stephanie says with a laugh. Dick easily joins in. She can play his game as well.

“He does love his words.” Dick comments as he turns the glass in his hands. “I took it upon myself to investigate the company behind the security equipment at the clinic.”

“Damian is working on code to break in.” Dick would obviously know this since he read the reports. What’s he playing at?

“He is going to have a hell of a time. The company is based out of a repurposed oil rig called Black Tower. Since the rig is in international waters they avoid regulations. And monitoring.”

“Interesting system for a free clinic to have.” Stephanie wonders why Damian hasn’t brought this up. Did Dick beat him to it? She doubts it.

“One of the things they offer besides 24 hour surveillance is armed guards.” Dick stretches and rubs his shoulder. 

“Military background?” Stephanie says as she leans against the kitchen island.

“And law enforcement. They have a hub in Metropolis and a spoke site here.”

“We didn’t see any armored guards at the clinic. But whoever took Maryanne were trained well.” Dick nods at that.

“On their site, Black Tower claims they keep their clientele small as a way to allow them to provide each client their own unique code. Code that changes frequently. This will make hacking in difficult.”

“They must charge a lot. Do we know who these clients with deep pockets are?”

“No, the client list is secret. I’m sure that kind of discretion is part of their appeal.”

“So how did this clinic get their hands on such a security system?” Stephanie asks again.

“Good question. I look forward to reading about it in Damian’s report. Thesaurus in hand.” They share a laugh, both watching each other. After a moment Stephanie asks.

“Why tell me this and not Damian?”

“Because Damian wants to do this case without Batman. You’ve noticed how he’s using the safe house instead of the cave.” 

“Yeah, I noticed.” Stephanie says as she rests her chin in her palm.

“And I really want to talk to you. About him.” Oh boy. Here it comes.

“Talk about what?” She does her best to temper her voice.

“You have to know that Damian is going through a rough time.” Keen eyes watch her, trying to read her. “Has he spoken to you about what’s been happening?”

“With Bruce forcing him to take a break and go to college?” Dick sighs, shaking his head.

“Forcing? I guess that is true. Bruce doesn’t want being a vigilante the only thing in Damian’s life. So he took Damian off all cases. He told you that?” She nods. “Bruce thinks it’ll help him focus on getting ready for college. But honestly, how much preparing does a rich genius need to do? So I allowed him to work this case because keeping him at the manor felt too much like we were caging him.”

“I can believe that. This is what you wanted to talk about?”

“I want your help. College is a good idea but Damian isn’t sold. And anything I say just comes across as ‘mothering’ to him. He’ll listen to you.” Stephanie laughs at that.

“Sorry, I just find this rather ironic. Bruce would never admit it but he hated the idea of Tim hanging up the cape to focus on going to college. He wanted Tim to pick a local campus so he could continue as Red Robin. But suddenly now it’s a great idea?”

“Yes. Because when he died, it made Bruce realize all the things Tim missed out on.”

“Damian and I have already spoken about this. He knows I’m for it.” Then it hits her. “And so do you. You know how I feel about it because of Tim. It should have been obvious that I would be supportive. So this isn’t about college, you’re here to find out what Damian has told me.”

“Told you about what?” Dick’s eyes become sharp as he waits for her to respond.

“About the cowl and how it was taken away from him. That’s what this is about!”

Dick looks relieved. Odd, not the reaction she expected.

“So he told you?” He whispers, pushing away from the kitchen island.

“That Bruce took it from him and going to college is a way to get it back. Damian said Bruce told him he needed to mature.”

“He told you that but not the reason?” She shakes her head no.

“And I won’t ask. Damian will tell me when he’s ready.”

“It’s not just his to tell.” Hmm, so Dick was involved? “But I’ll let him do it. If he found out I told you, it would upset him. And I worry he’ll shut you out.” And there it is. Dick’s whole reason for being here. Damian has shut him out and he needs a way to keep tabs on him. Stephanie doesn’t hide her disapproval.

“I’m not going to spy on him if that’s what you think. Whatever is happening between you and Damian is your issue to solve.”

“You are correct on that front.” Dick’s demeanor changes and Stephanie hasn’t seen him look so serious before. “And I’m not asking you to spy on him. I want you to look out for him. Damian is very vulnerable right now.” Flashes of heated kisses race across her mind, filling Stephanie with guilt.

To Damian, it must feel like his whole purpose in life is being taken from him. Leaving him feeling vulnerable. Though he’d be loathed to admit it, Damian would seek someone out to confide in. And his options are limited.

The obvious ones are out, as they are involved. And before Tim died, she heard the Teen Titans disbanded. She was never offered a reason and Damian showed no interest in keeping contact with them. Jon Kent? He joined the Justice League but maybe that caused a rift in their friendship?

So there’s her. Or his mother.

That woman may have cloned him, tried to have him killed, tried to have his father killed but she was still his mother. And she has shown an ability to cause an internal struggle in Damian.

For reasons unknown to Stephanie, Taila has also showed a change of heart. When he was thirteen, she tried to reenter his life but he chose his father over her. Though there was a moment where it seemed like he wouldn’t.

If she showed up now, would he choose his father again?

This conversation suddenly becomes very heavy.

“I’ll look out for him.” She swears.

“I know you will.” Dick smiles at her, handing over a thumb drive. “Part of his grounding means he doesn’t have access to Bruce’s files. And since you clearly are not Damian, I’m not breaking any rules by giving this to you. This has everything myself and Bruce has found on Black Tower.”

“Thanks Dick.” They stand in silence of a bit as Stephanie holds the thumb drive in her palm.

“Ah! Come here, I need a hug.” She laughs and willing complies to his request. She does miss his hugs. “I’ve missed you, Stephanie.”

“I’ve missed you too.” When the hug ends, Stephanie finds herself asking this question. “I know I said I’d wait for Damian to tell me what happened. But I do wonder, where is Bruce?” Dick’s face goes slack.

“He’s hiking in France.”

“Right, sorry I asked.”

“Stephanie, I cannot say much because I don’t even know what he’s up too. He’s. . .changed since Tim’s death.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope!” He says with thumbs up. “Not going down that rabbit hole.” Dick offers her another good bye before asking her turn off the lights. She does, engulfing the room in darkness. Stephanie counts to twenty before turning the lights back on. As expected, Dick left without a trace.

He’s good.

A sudden exhaustion takes over and Stephanie can feel her bed calling. After the talk with Dick, Stephanie needs sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

**Years Ago. . . **

****

****

“Brown!” Damian barks at Stephanie, who is just beginning her warmups. She rolls her eyes as he storms over to her.

“I’m watching my form!” She says with exasperation. He can clearly see that she is not, in fact, watching her form. But he chooses to not correct her. This topic is far too important.

“Never mind that. I have an inquiry for you. You’re a female.” 

“Last I checked.” He shakes his head in annoyance at her interruption.

“You’re a female and I have questions about your kind.” Stephanie stops her routine and places a hand on her cocked hip, a sign she’s annoyed.

“You want a shovel? Or are you committed to digging that hole with your hands?”

“What? I do not have the patients for your American idioms right now. I need to know why females insist on being difficult.”

“Ok, let’s back this up. What happened and who is she?” Her annoyance at him is replaced with mischief, she grins at him. It makes Damian realized he might’ve miscalculated this.

“Her name is Vanessa. But that’s hardly important.” He paces in front of her. “I found out she had a crush on me. Grayson told me that means I must take her out, which apparently does not mean spar with her. But to take her somewhere entertaining.”

“Uh-Huh, I think I see where this is going.” 

“I don’t need your commentary. Just listen!” Stephanie waves her hand as a sign to continue. “I did just that. I took her to see The Pirates of Penzance, even used my father’s box seat.”

“Totally what a twelve year old girl wants.” Damian nods in agreement.

“We then went to L'Auberge Chez Francois. The best French restaurant on the east cost.”

“Damn, you really go all out.” Hearing Stephanie’s approval causes Damian to stop his pacing.

“Right? She even said she had a great time.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I’m guessing you found out otherwise?” Stephanie says as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Today I overheard her talking to her friends.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, in his rush to get here he didn’t bother to change from his school uniform. Stephanie becomes quite as she waits for him to continue. But embarrassment takes a hold of him, his throat becoming tight.

Saying nothing, Stephanie places a hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, that little action gives him courage. 

“She made fun of me. Told her friends I was weird because I eat snails. Escargot is a delicacy! And how boring I am.”

“Damian . . .”

“She said I was lame! If only she knew the places I’ve been too, the things I’ve seen! I’ve done!” The hand on his shoulder starts to pat him.

“Yes Damian, you’ve lived a life that could never be seen as boring nor lame. But you know she can’t learn about it.”

“That doesn’t really bother me. What upsets me is the lying. She said she enjoyed herself to my face. But when alone with her friends she said she hated it. Plus she said she was willing to ‘pay the price’ if it means getting close to my fortune.”

“Want me to beat her up?” Stephanie says with a slight growl.

“Yes! No. She’s not worth it. But why would she do that to me?” His blonde companion sighs heavily.

“You’ve been through so much yet you still have so much to learn.” Gah, Damian hates it when she tries to sound sagely. “Damian, an opera is a bit much for kids your age.”

“It was in English, she would have understood it.”

“It’s still an opera. And you did eat snails.” He grows frustrated. Maybe Alfred would of been the better choice. “Regardless of any that. What she said was uncalled for. And it sucks to find out like you did. But take it as a blessing. You saw the real Vanessa.”

“I suppose there is some merit to that. I’ve been spared wasting anymore of my time. But the other girls. They all agreed with her. What if the whole class feels this way?” Then he takes a risk and asks the question burning in him. “Am I really. . .lame? Boring?”

“Weird?” She asks. He nods. “Yes. But who isn’t in this family? You find me all those things.”

“I find Drake all those things. Grayson when he tries to mother me. But you’re not lame nor boring .”

“Oh?” She smiles at him.

“Yes, you’re annoying and weird.” That just makes her laugh. “But I’ve never hidden that from you!”

“Nope, you’ve never wasted a chance to inform me of my annoyance or weirdness.” She flicks his ear, as if to prove his judgement. “You must have really liked her.”

“She was the first person to talk to me when I started attending school here. I thought she was. . .my friend.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this. But I am sorry this happened.” Damian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything. Much like you’re not doing anything now. I should never have told you.” He starts to walk away when Stephanie stops him by grabbing his arm.

“Slow your roll there, Damian. Why are you really upset? Is it because this makes you rethink your friendships at school?” 

“I’ve been trained to detect deception by elite assassins. Yet a middle school girl deceived me!”

“I remember middle school girls. They could be cruel. Case in point my friend Christie. We were best friends in 6th grade. Then the last week of school she told everyone all my secrets. Even the one about my father being in jail. That one really hurt, on multiple levels.”

“What did you do?”

“I wanted to punch her in her face so bad. And I went to do just that. I confronted her in the hallway, everyone around us. When I called her out, asked her why, she began to tell me that she planned this the year before with the popular girls. It was her initiation into their club. And boy did they all laugh.”

“I hope you punched her.” Damian feels his anger directed to this group of girls. Stephanie just needs to say the word and he’ll hunt them down for her. Yet, all she does is laugh.

“Maybe that would have made me feel better. But hearing what she said and seeing those girls looking all smug. I felt sorry for her. She had no idea what she just gave up. I protect my friends, those I care about. I would do anything for them. But she chose those girls for what? To sit at their table? They had no plan on letting her join them. They just wanted to manipulate her into harming another person. So I didn’t play their little game.”

“So you gave them a verbal dressing down?”

“No Damian. Let me finish. I told her thank you. For exposing her true self to me. I said the secrets I told her in confidence are embarrassing. But at least I’m not a backstabber. A title you will carry. Forever. Have fun with your new friends. And I flipped my hair.” And Stephanie does just that. “And I walked away.”

“Brown, that was a verbal dressing down.” She rolls her eyes. “So what happened after that?”

“Oh, I went home and cried my eyes out.”

“I do not cry.” He groans out.

“I’m not saying you should. Nor am I saying you need to confront her like I did. What I’m saying is this is her loss. She’s choosing to score some petty points over having a boyfriend like you. Even though you do need to work on your game.” Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Be the better person. I was right and those girls turned on her. She apologized to me, ask if we could be friends. And I agreed. But we were never as close as before.”

“I do not believe I would have accepted her back.” Damian is amazed at her. “What did you do about the teasing? With knowing people knew those things?”

“I’ll admit it was difficult at first. But I didn’t run from it. I turned it around on them. Oh, you find it amusing my my dad is in jail forcing my mom to take a second job? I don’t, I find it traumatic. That one always got them to shut up.” 

“Hmm, turn it against them.” Damian actually likes that idea.

“Yeah, If she or anyone else teases you for eating snails . . .”

“Escargot.” He grinds out.

“Game, Damian. Work on your game. It’s still snails. But don’t be upset at the teasing. Educate them. Be like, yeah, I eat them so what? It’s what you do when you live in France.” 

“I see, but I will be far more eloquent than that.”

“Critic. And if they bring up the opera . . . “ She makes a show of thinking. “I got nothing. You took her to an opera. That’s totally on you.”

“I’ll admit. It’s not my favorite one. But, where should I have taken her?”

“Well, the next girl you take out, because believe me, there will be plenty more after this Vanessa.” This makes him blush, he puffs his cheeks to hide it. “Try an arcade. Or the caravel. Something that lets you and your date interact. Save the operas for your more serious relationships.”

“I suppose I could do that.” Stephanie grins at him. “And I suppose I should thank you. Your talk has been . . . Enlightening?”

“Really? You said that as a question. And I just laid down some sage level wisdom here.”

“Don’t push it. I guess tomorrow I’ll be ready.” Damian feels better since overhearing the slights. He gives her a nod of approval before heading to change. Stephanie has given him much to think about. He would never admit it to her, but he’s thankful for having a friend like her.


	9. Stranger Danger

Chapter Nine  
Stranger Danger 

The sun sets once more over the city of Gotham, bathing the dark buildings in hues of orange and yellow. Shadows grow long, like fingers reaching out. In his office, Damian watches the city transition from day to night.

With skilled fingers, a cap from a thumb drive moves across his knuckles. Damian mulls over the data the drive contained and his annoyance builds. At his father, at himself. At Grayson.

The information on how Black Tower operates would have saved Damian hours of work. It seems his father has been investigating this company since they set up shop in the city. Almost four years ago. 

The cap is flipped into the air and Damian catches it in a tight fist. Of course his father never told him of this investigation. So much time wasted.

Three, crisp, precise knocks interrupt his brooding. He doesn’t call out, knowing the room is sound proof. His assistants use knocks as a code, giving Damian an idea on who is coming in.

Two knocks mean his father. Three means friend. Four knocks mean trouble. Everyone else, they will call it in.

The large door is opened by Nora, a pleasant smile on her face as she let’s Stephanie in. Damian gives Nora his thanks, telling her to head home. The woman offers a good night before closing the door.

Stephanie waits until she hears the door click before speaking. A tablet is clutched tightly to her chest and her hair is starting to come out of its bun. Ms. Rose must have put her through the ringer.

Damian smiles at that.

“I had no idea the amount of work that goes into planning a charity event. Ms. Rose is an excellent mentor. And quite the formidable woman.” Stephanie sighs in adoration. “I so want her to teach me her ways.”

“Enjoying the job then?” 

“Yeah, it’s a lot of work and I’m exhausted. But it’s a good kind of exhaustion.” Her smile is lazy but genuine.

“How did the meeting with John go?” She perks up and begins to tell him about the meeting. 

“It went well! I was worried his mother would convince him to cancel. But he kept the appointment. We kept the discussion on a business level and avoided talking about his mother.”

“That was quite clever. I’m sure she will try to pry every bit of information out of him about you. And once she learns you never spoke about her . . . It will eat her alive. You should be getting an invitation soon.” When Stephanie is caught off guard about something she pulls a certain face. It starts with a twitch of the corner of her lips, usually the left side. Then a grin will slowly stretch out and a nervous laugh will bubble up. She does this right now.

“Ha, yeah. That was totally my plan.” It clearly wasn’t. “So I do actually have work to discuss before we talk shop. The spring gala this year will be held at the Gotham Museum of History. There’s a bit of a debate on whether to use the Halls of Egypt or the Tour the Renaissance. We need your final say on this. I don’t want to influence your vote but if you make me wear a corset I’ll burn all your stuff.”

“Gods above, this is going to be a costume party?” 

“You didn’t know?”

“Of course not, that’s why I have you, Ms. Rose and the charity committee. Though I really should put an end to costumed events.” He holds up a hand, cutting Stephanie off, knowing what she is about to say next. “I know Ms. Rose has numbers showing we raise the most at such events. But it’s only by 19%.”

“You really want to argue with Ms. Rose?” He doesn’t. She is as bad as Alfred. Damian secretly hopes the two never meet. The thought terrifies him.

“No, that would be unwise. And about burning my stuff? You do know I could replace whatever you destroy.” She places a hand on her cocked hip and gives him the evil eye. “Hall of Egypt it is.”

“Smart man.” Stephanie chirps as she taps at her tablet. “I’ll have the invitation drafted tomorrow for your review. And we also need to go over the guest list. Nora penciled me in for 10am tomorrow.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope. We’re all good here.”

“Excellent. Dinner?”

“Sure.” Stephanie’s smile tightens.

All day she’s been odd around him, keeping a safe distance. At first he thought it was due to the passion they shared the night before. That troubles him. They are supposed to be dating, kissing is expected. Maybe he took it too far? But she issued a challenge when she kissed him back and Damian never backs down.

There are many things in his life that he regrets. But that kiss? Never. He will hold that memory close till the day he dies.

However, if it is the source of her unease, then he will regret it. And full heartedly apologize. Damian doesn’t want to endanger their renewed friendship.

Then when she handed him the thumb drive and explained it’s owner. He thought maybe her nervousness was due to being visited by Grayson. He feared the acrobat must have told her something. She handed over the thumb drive and rambled on about the company and the reason it was given to her and not him.

Grayson was always a clever rule bender.

It could be a combination of both issues. Either way, he needs to fix this. He doesn’t want to lose her to his over zealousness nor to Grayson’s interference.

“Before we go. Have you seen the tabloids?” Stephanie shakes her head no.

“Honestly, I’ve been avoiding them. Why? What do they say? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it.”

“Brown, when does anything good ever sell?” He opens the browser on his computer and finds what he’s looking for. Damian turns the screen to show her. “Bad sells. Bad gets attention. That’s what we want. You’ll learn bad is actually very, very good.” He throws her a smirk. Damian hopes this shows her he’s not bothered by this. Maybe that will ease her?

“Hot Nights in Gotham. Who’s the mysterious woman that has captured Gotham’s hottest bachelor? Huh, so you knew the paparazzi where there.” That last part was a statement, not a question. Her face loses some of her nervousness. But it’s replaced with a cool indifferences. Not what he was hoping.

“Is everything alright?” Damian hears himself asking.

“Yeah, just . . .wow. This really is your life. Every detail of your private life sold like a hot commodity. So, dinner?” She turns to head out but he calls out to her.

“Brown, I hope you’re not upset about the kiss.” Why is he saying this? Yet the words tumble out and he finds himself holding his breath. At this moment, Stephanie could very well crush him.

“No, it was for the cover. I totally understand. I will say, you do know how to kiss.” Air comes back into his lungs as his chest swells with pride. “But maybe we should tone it down, a bit? We’re supposed to be exploring this whole relationship thing.”

Stephanie tucks a lose curl behind her ear as she continues.

“We don’t want to come across like we’re starved for affection or anything, right?” She laughs with mild embarrassment. But to Damian, her words strike a cored. 

He has never found affection in abundance. Either by choice or by denial. Watching her now, remembering holding her while they danced and the kiss they shared. Damian is most definitely starved.

“Yes, you are correct. Better to be prudent.” Though he can hear Grayson’s voice telling him something about a honeymoon period at the start of relationships. He bats away Grayson’s voice and walks to Stephanie. He holds the door for her as they exit.

“Do you mind if we go somewhere not so fancy?”

“We’re not going to Happy Burger.” He jabs the down button.

“I wasn’t going to suggest it. I didn’t leave on good terms with my boss.”

“Oh? Do I need to get involved?”

“Ha! No, not like that. Eddie just laughed his ass off when I told him I got a job at Wayne Enterprise. And continued to laugh as I walked out. Pretty sure he’s still laughing. So I won’t be going back there. How does Mexican sound?”

“You do realize there are no real authentic Mexican restaurants in Gotham. What you are most likely referring to is Tex Mex.” She shoves him playfully as they enter the elevator.

“It’s a yes or no question, Damian. And also, since when are you the Mexican food expert. Scratch that, I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

“I spent a year undercover down there. It was after you left. And I found myself enjoying the food there. But to answer your question, yes.”

The place Stephanie suggests is a hole-in-the-wall with a salsa floor, low lights and secluded corners. The waitress leads them to a table tucked away, a divider separates them from the other guest. 

“Cozy?” Stephanie asks once they are alone. Damian reaches into his pocket and turns on a dampener to block any audio recordings.

“Yes, I especially liked the sign outside. Saying Tex. Mex.” He doesn’t hide his smugness.

“You really do put a lot of effort into being a brat.” She picks up the menu. “Did the info help?”

“Yes and no.” Damian mimics her actions. “It helped explain why I was struggling with the code. It also showed we need to change tactics. The tacos sound appealing.”

“They are. What’s the plan? I would go with the pulled pork.”

“Hmm, sounds good. We need to get in through the spoke site that’s here. We’ll hack them from there. What are you getting?”

“The beef burrito smothered in their special red sauce. Hmm, spicy.” She holds a hand up to cut him off. “And yes, it will also be smothered with cheese.” That actually gets a laugh out of him. It surprises both of them.

The waitresses returns to take their orders. Stephanie adds an order of a kiwi margarita while he sticks with water. 

“So, I gotta ask. If you had such struggles getting into the clinic. How will a security company be better?”

“Arrogance.”

“Wow, didn’t expect that kind of self awareness from you Damian.”

“Hilarious as always Brown. I meant them. But we won’t go in blind. I’ll case the area, learn the routines and schedules. But I want you to tag the homeless in the area. If any of them get grabbed then we can track where they too.”

“Hmm, I kinda think we should have done that from the start.”

“No. With the difficulty I was having with the code and the possible chance the same company was behind the kidnappings, there was too much a risk the trackers could be discovered.”

“I hope this means you found a way to avoid that?” He nods as the waitress returns with Stephanie’s drink. When they are alone again, Damian speaks.

“I’ll show you back at the safe house. We’ll start tonight.”

“Oof, maybe Tex Mex wasn’t the best choice then.” She says as she sips her drink.

“Saying you’re out of shape? I can fix that.” His voice is dark and full of promise. 

“Nope. Nope, not going through that hell again. You were only like, what, ten? I thought you were going to kill us with your training routine. You weren’t, right?” 

“Drake, yes. Kill him with humiliation by making him look weak in front of my father. You were never the intended target but you just had to insist on being a part of it.”

“Yeah, well. I was tired of being left out.” She says rather bitterly. Memories of Spoiler always being invited but never called. Well, his father did call on her a few times. When her father was involved.

“We probably should start training together. It would be best if we became synchronized again.”

“Ha!” She slaps the table, causing it to shake. “I knew you thought we fought well together. You always calmed otherwise.” Because he was a teenager with a huge crush on her and she was dating his rival. At the time he felt such an admittance would be too close to a confession. 

“I will not go easy on you. Old lady.” She scoffs at that.

“Old lady, young at heart.” She points her straw at herself then towards him. “Young man, old at heart.”

“Old. At heart?” Stephanie shrugs.

“Sounded good in my head.” Their meal arrives and they enjoy a pleasant dinner. Alfred once told him good company makes the meal. It was his reasoning for arranging so many family dinners. Damian sees the truth in that now.

With the meal done and paid for they head for the exit. The place is packed with people in the main area. Seeing the crowd makes Damian take hold of Stephanie’s hand. She gives him a warm smile and lightly squeezes his hand.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone is watching him. With strong malice, so strong it hits Damian like a physical force. His training kicks in.

Behind him, to the left.

Damian swiftly turns around to try and locate the source. Stephanie, sensing the change in him, steps closer.

“Where?” She whispers. He doesn’t know. The feeling vanished as soon as he turned. They’re good.

“Lets go.” They leave, more aware of their surroundings. Damian takes several different routes and yet sees no one following them. But the feeling of unease doesn’t dissipate until they do their third route. By the fourth he believes it’s safe.

They head to the safe house.

“So what happened? Did your ninja skills pick up on something?” So she didn’t sense it. That means that malice was directed at him. It brings him little reassurance.

“I did.” The last time he felt such hatred was from his clone. And Damian hasn’t informed Stephanie yet, mostly because there isn’t enough evidence, but his mother could be tied to this. Only because the spa reminds him of some of his mother’s ventures. “Let’s suit up.” 

Robin needs to go hunting tonight.

“Hold up there. You went all homing beacon at the restaurant. I thought we were going to have to fight a hoard of baddies with the way you acted. Then you drove us around the city with no one clearly following us.” She places both her hands on her hips. She’s doubly serious. “Whoever you sensed was good. So either the paparazzi have stepped up their game or your mother is back.”

“Why is she your first choice?” Stephanie couldn’t have figured his suspicions already.

“Who else knows your identity? Unless something happened in the past five years.”

“A lot happened.” He regrets the flinch she does at his words. “Look, if what I sensed was right, I rather be suited up and out there where we have the advantage.”

“You want to do patrols then? Instead of our earlier plan?”

“No, we need to tag those at risk.” He goes to the tool bench to grab what looks like a mini air paint gun. “Spray this on them, preferably the skin if you can. It’s clear, odorless and undetectable without this tool.” He holds up a second device that looks like a cellphone.

He hands them to Stephanie, who inspects them with curiosity.

“The spray has nanotechnology in it. I have very little of this stuff so aim wisely.”

“I thought this technology was still in theory.”

“Yes, it still is. On Earth.” Her mouth opens to a wide ‘O’.

“I will be extra careful then.”

“Please do.” They break away to suit up. When done, Stephanie asks him to be careful. Thankfully she doesn’t argue with him about joining him. Maybe, had she been Spoiler this whole time he would allow it. But there was too much of a risk.

He watches her take off and keeps watching until she’s out of sight. Damian doesn’t want her to see the sword he’s going to bring.

**Some Time Later . . .**

Spoiler quietly tags four more homeless, bringing her total to thirteen. And none were the wiser. 

This old shoe factory is commonly used as shelter for many of the homeless. The office rooms, large storage closets and abandoned shipping containers make for excellent protection to the elements.

She enters a large open area of the factory. No windows save for a small office in the far back. The ceiling is high, with support beams crisscrossing along the length of the area. The roof of the factory is torn and broken from neglect. Light is scattered throughout, it just happens to be a clear night with a full moon.

At its center still lays the shoe making equipment where once hundreds of people found work at. Now, the large machine lays there in silence, broken, slain by automation.

People are less likely to be here. To exposed to the elements. To many memories of a better time.

A crash is heard near by, in the office up ahead. Silently with her grappling hook, she takes to the beams above. The beam groans with the added wait, rust sprinkles down, making her curse herself poor judgment. The movement stops.

After the way Damian acted, there could be a serious threat here. She needs to be more careful.

Silently she moves towards the noise, tucking away the tool to bring out her staff. The office has no ceiling, the beam goes right over it, giving her a bird’s eye view.

What was most likely the floor manager’s office, is nothing more than a trash heap. The room is small and in tatters, only one door in and out. But piles of trash block the way. Upon closer inspection, they were put there, recently. 

She scans the area for any movement. An old, rotted desk draws her attention. There, in the moonlight, under the desk and amongst the trash and debris is a hand. The fingers desperately hold the piles together. They are trying to hide themselves. 

She drops down but doesn’t drop her guard. 

“I see you. Come out.” The pile of trash moves and she sees a single blue eye looking back at her. Then two eyes and as the trash falls away a man emerge. An older man with matted hair and an unruly beard. Dirt and grime cover his face, almost making it hard to see the man underneath.

But those eyes. The shine through. Look at her with such sadness and longing.

“Please.” His voice croaks out, lips are chapped and bleeding. “Help. They took me. But I escaped. But I’m not safe. They’ll find me.” Escaped? Could he be one of the missing homeless?

The rotted door to the room burst wide open as a blast rocks the place, sending debris and trash flying. A well armored assailant enters the room with gun drawn. Two more are ready outside. But they find the room empty.

Spoiler sits on the roof looking down. The man by her side is thankfully silent. That might have to do with the heart attack she most likely gave him when she pulled him up here during all that commotion.

“Tracker says he’s here. But where?” Shit. Of course they have trackers. She turns to the man who hold up his bare wrist. There is a faint glow under the skin. Double shit.

With a flick of her wrist she pulls out a blade she took from Damian’s stash, he’ll never miss one, and cuts the tracker out. Luck is on her side again as the man manages to swallow any cries.

With a quick patch up, Spoiler whispers to the man to remain silent and not to move. He nods and tries to make himself as small as possible.

With tracker in hand, she jumps off the roof and takes off running on the ground. Heavy footsteps follow in pursuit. She needs to lead them away from bystanders. Some place that will give her an edge.

Somewhere she can separate them.

She runs down a few alleyways until she see an entrance to the old subway system. Many in the homeless community avoid these tunnels believing they’re haunted. That works. She hops over a barricade and rushes down the stairs.

The lobby area dates back to the late 1800 hundred. Titles are weathered to a dull yellow and cracked. Dust and cobwebs are everywhere. Sitting alone on the tracks is one subway car, shadows of the tunnel mask most of it. Almost like the tunnel itself was swallowing the car.

Perfect hinging spot.

The three armored men enter the lobby as she plans her attack. They keep a tight formation. Definitely former military. The lead suddenly stops, fist raised.

“Somethings off. He wasn’t this fast before.” They circle around each other. “Prepare yourself boys. We’re in for a fight.” Spoiler grins at that. They put away their guns. Interesting. And pull out even bigger ones. 

Wonderful. Her hand instinctively reaches for a smoke bomb but finds nothing. Right, cause the brat didn’t trust her with all the expensive goodies. Now what?

A smoke bomb would be perfect here. And by some miracle a smoke bomb goes off right at their feet.

“Smoke bomb! We have conta-ack!” She cannot see but that sounded like it hurt. A large thud is heard and a gun slide across the floor.

Well, she’s not going let him have all the fun.

Shots are fired at random as one of the men tries to spray the area. It’s sloppy and easily avoidable.The smoke has lifted enough for her to just make out the shooter and she lays a sweeping kick to his legs, toppling him over. In a flash she’s on top of him slamming her palm under his chin, rendering him unconscious.

A groan is heard behind her. Robin has the third man hanging upside down from an exposed pipe. He slams his fist into the man’s side causing him to howl in pain.

“Why are you after the homeless?” He growls out. It reminds her of Batman. Dark, intimidating.

“Fuck yo-AAAH!” The man swings like a morbid piñata. “I’m not saying anything. I know my rights.” Robin grabs him, bringing his face close.

“Do I look like a cop?” The man is silent, the color actually drains out of his face despite begins hung upside down.

“They said you lot where fucking crazy.” Robin raises a fist. “Alright, look I don’t know much. We’re supposed to grab them and send them to the docks to be loaded on a boat.”

“Which dock?” Robin gives the man a hard shake. Spoiler moves to tie the other men up. 

“All of them! It changes every time!”

“Where are they taken? And how are they chosen?” Robin’s anger feels out of place. His rage is barely contained.

“Once on the boats I don’t know. Our boss gives us a list with a location and description. We only take those on the list. I swear!” Robin growls once more before knocking the man out. He places a call to the police before taking off.

Spoiler is close behind, worry for her partner sinks in as they take to the roofs. Once they have put some distance between them and the subway entrance, does Robin confront her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Robin’s anger seems to have tempered some. The anger is still there, smoldering, but now his voice holds worry. A hint of panic.

“I could have handle those three. Plus, you were off doing your thing.” She tries to reassure him, slightly annoyed.

“They had armored piercing bullets! Your suit can only take so much damage. If they had surrounded you!” His anger emerges again, burning past his worry.

“I am rusty, but not that rusty Robin. I was going to separate them but then.” She slaps a hand on her belt. “Oh, what’s this? No smoke bombs. Cause someone doesn’t trust me.” Her own anger starts to build to match his. She’s tired of being treated like a liability. If he truly felt she wasn’t ready to get back into the field, then why build her a suit? Why bother letting her tag along? 

Is he just bored? Is this amusing to him?

“Oh, I trust you.” He gets into her face, towering over her, his voice a deep growl. 

“Do you now?” She cocks her chin up, he won’t intimidate her. 

“I trust you.” He jabs a finger into her collarbone. “I trust you to do something reckless and stupid! You’re lucky I noticed one of my blades was missing. Once I saw that I knew you’d do something idiotic and I was right!”

“Well, thank God I have you in my life to save me from myself!” Her words come out as a hiss. Neither of them are backing down. Tensions high, adrenaline rushing through them, breaths mingling at their close proximity. It makes her feel light headed. And dammit, why does she want to kis-

Lips slam into her’s as Damian pushes her up against a wall. The air leaves them both as they crash into each other. The action separates their mouths but only for a second. Damian pins her with his body as he kisses the living daylights out of her.

Stephanie clings to him, trying to find her bearings in this storm called Damian.

This isn’t for the cover. Her mind reels. Stephanie doesn’t care, the feelings Damian is putting into this is very much real. 

But what about her? Is she doing the same? Yes, yes she is. Stephanie returns his kiss and he shudders, a low deep groan comes from within. Maybe from both of them? 

They lose themselves in the passion. Desperate to get closer, to feel each other. To feel something. Anything.

_“I want you to look out for him. Damian is very vulnerable right now.” _ Dicks voice comes crashing down on her like an ice cold wave. She shoves him away, the mask doesn’t hind his shock. Or shame.

He covers his mouth with a gloved hand. Both are breathless.

“I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” Gone is the deepness of his voice. It sounds fragile, like glass. “Forgive me.” He takes off before she has a chance to respond. Her out stretched hand hangs there as he disappears into the night.

It takes a moment for Stephanie realizes she’s crying.


	10. Hollowed

Chapter Ten  
Hollowed

**Five Years Ago . . .**

It doesn’t rain at Drakes funeral. Of all the things to notice, as Damian stands there, watching the closed casket, it’s that it isn’t raining. The sun is bright almost mockingly so. 

His father speaks first, then Grayson and so on and so on. The number of speakers seem endless. Damian listens as best as he can but he struggles to understand their emotions. When Brown finally goes to speak, he doesn’t like what he sees. She looks defeated. With her voice breaking, she speaks with such sorrow it is palpable.

It makes him uncomfortable.

Growing up among assassins, you treat death like an old friend. Always there, never leaving your side. You didn’t run from it. You didn’t fear it. And you didn’t morn it.

Drake’s sacrifice should be honored but no one should have been surprised by the act. For all his faults, Drake’s dedication to the mission was never in question. Everyone should be just as dedicated. And as ready.

Which makes seeing these people, heroes who risk their lives daily, cry so confusing. The loss of his skills and tactics will be felt, that is true. But this torment Brown and the others are putting themselves through, he struggles to understand it.

His mother had warned him about growing attached to others. This must be what she was referring to. Yet, as he listens he notices how they speak more about who Drake was than about his contributions to the team. 

They speak about the impact he had on their lives, how he made them a better version of themselves. They didn’t speak about his usefulness. Instead they tell stories about jokes they shared with him, antics they got up to, about finding love for the first time.

Drake was more than a tool, a honed weapon for their crusade. He was a person, who mattered to them. Who was loved.

And he loved back. But is it worth it? There are cases that need clear heads to solve them. Criminals on the loose who would take advantage of a distracted and distraught vigilante. Is it worth it to love and open oneself to such pain as on display here?

A part of him wants to know. Wants to take the risk. And break one of his mother’s rules he actually believes in. There is a part of Damian that wants to love as Drake did and be loved back. 

His mother’s voice whispers in his ear: _You’ll regret it._

Damian hopes it’s worth it.

**Present . . .**

Stephanie rushes back to the man she left on the roof, cursing the whole way. She was warned Damian was vulnerable. She was asked to look after him. What does she do?

Shoves him away while crying. He looked so shattered. Damian never took rejection well.

Hell, who does?

But the worst part, she wasn’t rejecting him. In her panicked mind she thought she was the one doing the harming.

The roof comes into view, a lone form still huddled there. Stephanie pushes her personal life to the side. Spoiler is needed right now.

She drops down with some noise as to inform the man of her return. He looks up but doesn’t move.

“It’s ok, they’re gone.” She asks as she approaches. “What’s your name?”

“Burt.” 

“Ok, Burt. Are you hurt?” He pats himself down, wincing when he touches his ribs. He nods. “I’ll be as gentle as I can. Grab hold, I’ll get us down.”

The man wraps his arms around her, his form is rather solid. And he holds onto her like he’s done this before. It causes her to pause before getting them down. Immediately upon touching ground, she puts some distance between them. Guard up.

“You’re safe now.” Spoiler keeps her voice level as to not alert the man.

“No, they’ll be back!” He reaches for her but Spoiler swiftly moves away. His eyes show real hurt. It reminds her of the hurt in Damian’s eyes. 

“You’re hurt, let’s get you an ambulance.” His shoulders slump at her words. “Do you know if you’re bleeding anywhere?”

“No, they just beat me, stuck that thing in my wrist but nothing too serious. No need for an ambulance, no doctors. I went to one and this happened. I need to hide.”

“You went to one? Who was the doctor?”

“I can’t remember her name. Po, maybe? I went in cause it was raining hard and they promised to give me drugs. . .uh, for my back. I just had to answer some questions.”

“And the drugs? Did they give it you?”

“Yeah but they didn’t have the kick I wanted.” Spoiler crosses her arms over her chest. “I mean it didn’t help my back.”

“Right, your back. If you are sure you’re alright, go to Open Doors. You’ll be safe there.” She doesn’t wait for his reply. She needs to find Damian and fast. Stephanie debates about radioing him but there is a risk Dick might overhear.

And if he learned what happened.

Nope. Move faster.

Would he go to the docks? Go looking for a fight? Damian could be anywhere in this city. And she doesn’t have the means to search for him. 

With her options limited, Stephanie heads to their safe house. Dear God, let him be there. The way back is a blur, her heart pounding along the way.

Stephanie finds the safe house dark and empty. The sight makes her heart sink as exhaustion sinks in, both physical and mental. 

A thump is heard, like a sand bag was dropped on the floor. More thumping is heard followed by a cry of frustration. Stephanie walks towards the sound, it leads her to the room reserved for training. The door is closed, a sliver of light coming from underneath. Hope springs in her heart.

Could she be this lucky?

There Stephanie finds him, giving the punching bag a beating. He has removed his hooded cape, mask and the top armor of his uniform. The discarded items by the door, thrown in haste.

She has to be cautious here. Both are in dangerous territory and Damian doesn’t have a great track record for handling personal affairs. If she doesn’t do this right, he could shutdown completely on her.

Stephanie enters without a sound, pulling down her face mask and removing her own hooded cape. Damian stops once she pulls out her staff, of course he sensed her. He probably did the moment she entered. 

Blue eyes watch her with a mixture of caution and trepidation. He takes notice of her staff, the sight of it makes him nod.

Nodding back, Stephanie steps to the center of the mat and readies herself. Damian, his face grim, joins her at the center. Yet Damian doesn’t take up a staff, instead he turns his back to kneel before her.

Um, this isn’t going the way she wanted. Stephanie wanted to spar, hoping that might be the best way to reach him. But this? This is awfully submissive, very uncharacteristic of the young man known for his pride.

Damian pulls off his under armor shirt to expose his back. Old, faded scars mars his flesh. The sight makes her tighten her grip on the staff. He’s been disciplined, harshly.

Stephanie is about to tell him to get up, to stop this foolishness, when it hits her. He was raised in a different culture, with different beliefs. This isn’t foolish to him. And Damian is already hurting enough. No sense in hurting his pride.

Stephanie raises the staff up, ready to strike. If atonement is what Damian is after, then she will give it to him. Damian tenses as she swings downward.

Tap.

The staff lightly taps him. The tension leaves his shoulders as he looks at her, brows drawn in confusion.

“Can we talk now?” She asks. Damian sits in silence for a while before sighing. He stands to face her, eyes guarded.

“Talk? I rather take the strikes.” He says, not hiding his discomfort, arms straight at his sides with clenched fists.

“Well, if you want, my original plan was to spar with you.” She smiles at him as she leans on her staff. His only response is getting his own.

They square off at the center, staffs touching. Once Damian nods, she strikes. Damian easily blocks her move, shoving her away and wastes no time going for the opening he created. Air is knocked out of her as he jabs her side. She stumbles but keeps upright.

Ok, he’s not going to go easy on her. This might have been a bad idea . . . He goes for another strike but she’s ready. Stephanie blocks it and shoves her elbow towards his jaw. He moves to avoid it but leaves an opening for a split second. One she quickly takes advantage of.

He grunts at the impact, but otherwise is unmoved by her blow. Though his eyes give him away, that stung. And he seems pleased.

They spar for awhile, each growing bolder in their strategy. Once the tension has left him, does Stephanie finally speak.

“I pushed you away because I was frightened.” Her words are winded, sweat beading down her temple.

“Of me.” It isn’t a question.

“Yes. And of myself. I . . . It’s been a very long time since anyone has invoked those kinds of emotions. I panicked.” Honesty is the best policy with Damian. 

“So, you felt it too? I’m not alone in this?” He moves to strike, their staffs clashing. Damian isn’t fully focusing on their sparring, leaving himself open. It is awfully tempting but she resists. 

“You’re not alone Damian. Not in this.” Stepping back, she signals to him she wants to talk. Damian lowers his staff but keeps his guard up.

“But why were you crying?”

“I hadn’t realized I was till you left. It’s very normal to cry when strong emotions are running though you. But it wasn’t because of anything you did.” Those words have a physical impact on him, as if hearing them took a weight off of him.

“I had thought . . . When I saw one of my blades missing I was at first relieved. I had thought at least you were armed out there.” Damian runs a hand through his damp hair, causing the thick strands to sick up. “But as I tried to track the person from the restaurant I feared they could know my identity as Robin. There are those still loyal to my grandfather. . .who feel I betrayed him.” His words are bitter.

Damian’s grip on the staff tightens, the wood begins to crack under the pressure. Stephanie tries to warn him but he continues to speak.

“If it were them, if they were after me and wanted to hurt me. You would have been the real target.” Sharp blue eyes turn towards her, with a rush of emotions coursing through them. Fear, shame and something unreadable. “When I rushed to find you I saw those armored men . . .” His voice trails off as he looks away.

“Damian.” Stephanie reaches for him, a hand on his bare shoulder. His skin is hot and nervous energy radiates off him. At her touch, he calms a bit, a strong hand grasps her’s. For a moment she thought he would pull her off him but instead grips it, drawing strength from her touch.

“I don’t want to lose you. Not when I just got you back.” There is a hidden confession in his words. It causes her scarred heart to ache. “And those men were heavily armored, it reminded me that I didn’t make your suit with materials that would have protected you from their weapons.”

Wait, he didn’t?

“And I didn’t give you the tools that would have helped you. I handicapped you because it would have alerted my father. I put you at risk because of my cowardice. If you had died, it would have been my fault.” He lets go of her hand, moving away from her, shoulders slumped.

“I wasn’t mad at you. I was furious with myself. But up on that roof, when you acted like it wasn’t a big deal, as if I shouldn’t worry. I realized you didn’t know the danger you were truly in. That I had put you in. And again, I was a coward. I couldn’t confess my omission so I yelled at you.”

Damian returns the staff to the weapons rack but still keeps his back to her. 

“Your laissez fair attitude was an easy target. It was wrong but it was like I couldn’t control myself. Everything felt like it was falling apart. I didn’t know how to explain myself . . . So I kissed you.”

“Well, I heard that kiss loud and clear.” Humor is her safe place. Normally it cuts through any heavy tension but this time the words hang there in the silence. Damian looks at her over his shoulder and then slowly he turns to face her. 

With shoulders squared, chin raised as if ready to take a blow, Damian asks. “So now what?”

Now what indeed? The safest thing to do is chalk this up to two people working together in a stressful situation and passions were running high. Yet, that would mean to ignore the attraction between them, the chemistry.

But if this goes south . . . Are the risks worth it?

“Now we stick to the original plan.” Stephanie puts away her staff, then walks closer to him. This is risky, a scared part of her tells her, tries to stop her. But she is known for her stubbornness.

“What?” Dark brows bend in confusion. 

“We’ve reconnected recently and we are still trying to find our footing.” She tries to reassure them both. And it works, Damian moves closer to her, hesitating only slightly. But there is hope in his eyes.

“We’re exploring this whole relationship thing.” He repeats her words from earlier. His arm snakes around her waist, pulling her close. Lips hover over her’s, barely touching, teasing.

“Yes, exploring.” She kisses him lightly. “Rather thoroughly I might add.” Another light kiss.

“I agree.” Another kiss, longer this time. “We need to be thorough.” His voice sounds deeper, sending a thrill down her spine. Damian senses this, he leans down to kiss her again but she stops him with a finger pressed against his lips.

“Now, I would like to keep this flirty banter going and I do enjoy kissing you but I need to discuss business with you.”

“I’ll make your suit better, father be damned. And I’ll give you better tools.”

“I appreciate it. But I was referring to what happened tonight. There was something odd.”

“With the guards?”

“No, with the man they were chasing.” He pulls back slightly but doesn’t let her go. “I’ve worked with a lot of homeless over the years and none were ever built like he was.” That gives him a shock.

“Built?”

“Yeah, he was fit. Not like someone going to the gym everyday kind of fit. But like how you are.” She gives his abs a squeeze. Bad mistake. Damian has amazing abs. 

“Hmm, so he could have been a trap. Did he put a tracker on you?” They pull apart quickly, looking her over. Damian leaves the room but quickly returns with a device and scans her. Stephanie feels foolish, in her haste to find him she didn’t bother to check to see if Burt put a tracker on her. Her lapse in judgment could cost them greatly.

The device beeps.

“Good, no tracker.” Damian clicks it off. “Were you able to place your own on him?”

“I was able too when I got him off the roof I left him on. Can we track him?” Damian shakes his head no.

“We can see where everyone tagged is but not who they are. If he is working for them, we will see him again.”

“Damian, if he’s working for them then they know we’re on to them.” He hums as he thinks. After a moment he indicates to her to follow him to the main room. He takes a seat behind the computer and pulls up the case file.

“Well, either way they will be aware after tonight. I swiped a comlink from one of them and tapped into their communications. The radio silence is telling.”

“So what know? We learned they are using the docks to transport their targets and you tapped into their communications, do we need to keep trying to get into the lab? There wasn’t really enough room for them to do anything. I’m amazed Mr. Freeze could move around in there with how large his suit is.” At her words, Damian snaps his fingers.

“That’s right. The area was too small.” He begins typing at rapid speed. The floor plans for the lab is pulled up onto the screen. “Storage rooms were added when Wayne Enterprise renovated it. But the main lab was untouched. However, when I walked the room I counted only ten paces. This floor plan shows that room should have been larger.”

“But that hidden area is still too small, a stairway? The building isn’t attached to anything.” At her question, Damian pulls up the sewer system. It doesn’t run under that area of the building but when he moves to the old subway line. . .

“There, right under it is the old rail line. They could transport people this way, see? The rail line here heads towards the water.” He pulls up more files on that particular section of the old subway. “When it was first built, it was use to transport materials to build Wonder City. There was a dock there but was abandoned when the city erupted into chaos, thanks to my grandfather.”

“So the lab could be down there, in Wonder City? Maybe the people they took as well, that’s why they place trackers on them?”

“Brown, this is pointing more and more to my mother. She could be trying to reactivate the Lazarus pit.” 

“Should we contact your father about this?” He steeples his fingers together as he becomes deep in thought. 

“Not yet, I need more proof.” With swift fingers he shuts down the computer and begins suiting up. Guess this will be a long night. “I need you to stay here, keep an eye on those you tagged. If anyone heads towards the docks, inform me immediately.”

“You’re going down there alone?” He pulls out a sword she hasn’t seen since he was younger. “Damian.” Her voice is stern.

“I do not plan to use this. But the sword is important to the assassins, it represents our soul. It would be disgraceful to be seen without it.”

“So you’re going there to talk?”

“No, to observe. I plan to start at the old city and work my way back to the clinic. But if I do run into my mother’s assassins or loyalist to my grandfather, I’ll need this.” He inspects the sword before strapping it to his back.

“What if this isn’t them down there? If it’s more of Black Tower guards? Or Killer Croc . . .!” He silences her with a kiss. When Damian pulls away he has that infuriating smugness she secretly enjoys.

“An effective way to silence you. I like it.”

“Brat.” She swats at him. “Just be careful. Recon only, right? Don’t go getting into any fights without me.”

“Same to you. If anyone moves to the docks, inform me and wait for me.” He puts his mask on and leaves her with some parting words. “We’re in this together.” 

And with that he leaves. Stephanie sinks into the chair he left, her energy feeling like it was just sapped from her.

What a whirlwind of events. 

Things between them seem settled. Key word ‘seem’. Stephanie cannot keep that little voice quiet, telling her she’s making a mistake, risking their friendship. But she hasn’t felt this way about another since Tim.

They’re both adults, they can be mature about this. Nothing wrong with exploring what could be possible. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. No harm, no foul.

Right, she needs to focus. For the rest of the night she watches the people she tagged, hoping one of the little dots on the screen would go to Open Doors. That would hopefully be Burt. Yet, they all stay where they are, only stirring at dawn, most likely to try and get in line for the soup kitchen. 

Free hot meals go fast in this city.

Robin checks in every now and then. The ruins of the old city remain undisturbed since Batman was there last. Yet the rail shows sign of use and the passageway has been cleared. But no sign of a secret lab. 

Robin’s last message to her says he is coming back but to the Batcave. He needs some tools from there that the safe house lacks. Then at the end he tells her in a softer tone to get some sleep. It’s cute how unsure he sounds.

She tells him to do the same, the familiar t-t sound is his final reply. Once signed out, Stephanie prepares for bed. Another night on that bunk but she’s too tired to make it back to her apartment. Sleep consumes her the moment her head hits the pillow.

The next evening . . .

“And Mr. Queen called again. Should I schedule a time for you to call him back?” Damian pinches the bridge of his nose as he and his executive assistant step off the elevator to his office. He never liked Queen. The archer’s ridiculous outfit will forever make it impossible for Damian to take the man seriously. Besides, those calls are supposed to be done by his father. Damn him.

“No Nora, I’ve put him off for long enough. I’ll call him on my own, thank you.” Well, he’ll try and get Grayson to do it at least. 

“As you say. Ms. Brown is waiting for you in your office. Since you have no other appointments today I let her in, is that is ok?” Nora’s smile is pleasant and nonjudgmental. 

“Yes, it is. Thank you and have a good night.” Anticipation at seeing Stephanie builds with each step he takes towards his office door. Damian hasn’t seen the blonde since last night and he finds himself missing her.

Which is odd seeing how she has only been a few floors away from him all day. And they had plans to meet later. A plan that made him very aware of the time and how slowly it moves.

Damian had tried his best to not be distracted. But the image of her always seemed to slip into his subconscious. And in the most inconvenient times.

Sitting in a board meeting, lead accountant droning on about quarter gains, Damian found himself daydreaming about her! Damian doesn’t daydream. Ever.

He became caught off guard when a question was directed at him, cutting through his daydream. All eyes of the board members waited patiently for him to answer. Only Grayson dared to show his amusement.

At that moment he heard his mother’s voice berating his foolishness.

“Wait sir!” Nora’s voice halts him. She pulls out from her desk a red box adorned with a white bow. “Ms. Brown had a rough day. Don’t worry, nothing serious happened. It’s just the planning committee discussed catering options and the meeting ran rather late. I suspect she will be needing this.”

The red box is handed over to him, there is no label identifying it. But it’s a high quality made box.

“It’s chocolates from the best chocolatier in the city.” Nora anticipates his question before he could form the words.

“Thank you Nora.” He makes a note to give her a raise. Damian finds Stephanie passed out on the couch in his office, clutching a tablet to her chest. Her heels lay haphazardly near her feet, most likely kicked off when she laid down. Her hair has been freed from her usual bun, she feels that hair style is professional, and the blonde locks cover her face. 

As he brushes the hair away, to better see her, she mumbles something about Terra.

Terra? She can’t mean the former Titan. They never met. Damian buries his disappointment that it wasn’t his name she called out.

“Brown. Wake up.” He pokes her. Nothing. “Brown!” 

“I don’t like tiramisu!” She shouts as she almost falls off the couch, only being saved by Damian. The tablet hits the floor as she tries to balance herself, gripping his arms as he steadies her. “W-what? Oh God, I thought I was back in that horrible meeting.”

“About catering?” Damian teases. She nods, tucking her hair behind an ear.

“I thought today would be easy. How hard could a meeting about food be? But no! Karen just had to make sure we picked that place that had the tiramisu. Of course she couldn’t remember the name of the place so we had to go through four years of past galas!”

“I’m surprised Ms. Rose allowed the meeting to lose direction. She tends to keep better order than that.” Her face reddens as a nervous laugh bubbles out from her. Oh, she was in charge. Now he understands the chocolates. “Here, for you.”

Her eyes light up at the gift, a bright smile as she takes the box. Her shoulders do what Damian can only describe as a ‘dance’. It’s rather endearing. With great care she removes the bow and lifts the lid. A squeal of delight bursts from her at the sight of the chocolates.

“Chocolates! Oh God, how I love you!” Of course she says this to the chocolates and not to him but it does make his ears burn. “Damian, you are the best!”

“Actually…” She cuts him off with a kiss before popping a chocolate into her mouth. Her kiss stopped him from speaking but the moan that comes from her as she devours the little chocolate morsel? That steals all thoughts from him. 

“You know . . .” She says as she finishes a second chocolate. “You could have kissed me awake. Wasted an opportune moment there.”

“I want you awake when I kiss you.” To prove his point he kisses her, tasting the sweetness of the chocolates. Hmm, could begin to like sweets. When he pulls away her eyes are closed, a pleased smile on her lips.

“I see your point. Being awake is far better.” She offers him a chocolate that accepts with an open mouth. The sweet is popped in with a laugh from Stephanie. “Thank you for the chocolates, I really needed these.”

“Honestly, Nora got them. But I will ensure the next box is from me.” That earns him a bright smile. “Especially since we’re slumming it tonight.”

Her face drops.

“We’re crawling through tunnels.” She frowns but doesn’t protest.

“I picked up motion sensors at the Batcave. We’ll place them throughout the area, see if we can follow their movements down there.”

“We may have forced them to ground and won’t see anything. None of those I tagged have moved towards the docks or anywhere suspicious.”

“All the more reason to act now.” Damian picks up her shoes, helping her back into them. “Any progress with Megan Goller?”

“Nope. I must not have impressed her enough.” Stephanie shrugs as he helps her up.

“Then let’s fix that.” 

“Oh, are we going to crash a party? We’re crashing a party aren’t we?”

Damian shakes his head no. 

“Although she would love the dramatics of such actions, I believe the best plan is to ignore her. We need to be seen. So, we’re going to an opera.”


	11. Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all those who have left kudos and comments! I also hope everyone is doing well in these crazy times. Stay safe out there!

Chapter Eleven  
Downtime

“Operation ‘cookie crumble’ was a success. I was able to extract two plates of cookies unnoticed.” The noise from the ballroom is muted once she closes the thick doors of the study. Without the crowds the temperature drops around her, make her shiver. Stephanie rushes to the fireplace, sighing in relief at the fires warmth. 

“How did you fair?” She asks as she kicks off her heels before taking a seat on the fur rug. Tim chuckles as he accepts the small plate of cookies.

“Operation ‘liquid courage’ was . . .” He pulls out two full bottles of wine. “Also a success.”

With an open wine bottle and their spread of cookies, the two enjoy the crackling of the fire and the peace from the crush of people in the other room.

“Oh! These cookies taste like a s’mores! Try it, the one with the clown on it.”

“It’s Pagliacci. A famous Italian clown.”

“Oh?” She leans closer to Tim. “That’s relieving. I thought it was some weird inside joke with you bats.” 

“Yes, because we bats are known for our humor.” He nudges her lightly with his shoulder, lips stained with wine. Stephanie takes the bottle from him for her own drink.

“Well, I always though Nightwing was kind of funny.” The wine bottle is pulled away from her as Tim mocks shock on his face.

“Never let him hear that. He’ll never stop telling you jokes. Never.”

“And they are so bad.”

“Just terrible. I almost think it’s part of some strategy to annoy his enemies into surrendering.” Together the two enjoy a good laugh as they recount their favorite bad Nightwing jokes.

“I miss you.” Tim’s voice is suddenly sad and distant. Huh? 

“Miss me? I’m right here.” But the room around them begins to fade to black. Tim, now in his Red Robin suit, starts to move away from her, a green light blinking behind him. “Tim! Wait!”

Stephanie tries to get up but the ground melts around her like a tar pit. With every attempt to reach him she sinks deeper as he moves further away. 

“Tim!” She yells as the tar grips her, unrelenting. Tim says something to her as the strange green light keeps blinking. “I can’t…I can’t hear you! Tim don’t go! Please!”

She wakes with a start, heart racing, sheets tangled around her like a vise. It felt so real. It takes several deep breaths before she calms her heart.

5:40AM

The glare of the red numbers mock her tired state. No point in trying to get back to sleep. Stephanie pulls her self up, stretching her back.

Crack. Oof, getting old sucks. Rubbing her soar back as she enters her bathroom, but what greets her is not her bathroom. It’s a closet full of crisp white towels. 

Oh, that’s right. The opera.

The past four days has been filled with shopping, fancy meals and one very long opera. The music was beautiful but Lord help her, she had no clue what was happening.

Damian pulled off a masterful plan though. Wherever Megan Goller was, Damian made sure they were near by. Never close enough to require them to offer polite greetings. But close enough where their presence was felt. 

Megan may own the most exclusive spa in the city but her star power is nothing to a Wayne.

Stores bent over backwards to cater to their needs. They even shut down an entire shop to the public just to look at shoes. Everyone, no matter who was turned away.

A secret part of Stephanie did enjoy being fawn over. Of course she will deny that with her dying breathing.

After shopping they went to the best restaurants in the city, some with a three month waiting list. But not for a Wayne. Cameras followed them wherever they went, questions tossed at them at every chance. It soon became noise to Stephanie.

Yet, that best part of his plan was surprisingly the opera. Apparently Damian is aquatinted with a world famous opera singer, Renata Bartoli. The woman was beautiful, with long black hair and dark brown eyes. She had an hourglass figure that just oozed a sexual confidence.

And she was quite fond of Damian. So much so that she agreed to fly all the way from Italy just to perform for one night in Gotham. The theatre was full with Gotham’s elite, all dressed in their finest and wanting to be seen.

They sat high in their box seat, right in view of everyone. Megan was given the box seat that gave her the best view of them. Renata had a beautiful voice and was quite captivating. Yet, Stephanie could just feel Megan watching them.

_ “Don’t look at her, no matter what. Make her come to us.”_ Damian had instructed as they took their seats.

After the performance they were invited to a private party hosted by Renata. It was held at a private area in some night club. Megan was invited but Renata was always present, her entourage forming a tight circle around them, keeping Goller at bay.

And the party went on and on. Stephanie cannot remember what all was said but it was early morning when they arrived at Damian’s apartment. She vaguely remembers agreeing to take a guest room.

But the sight of the closet brings it all back. She takes two towels and enters, what she hopes is a bathroom.

It isn’t. It’s a fricken home spa. Sauna, huge soaking tub and a shower with more nozzles than she’s ever seen. When turned on the water comes down like a waterfall. 

“And it’s already hot!” Her shower takes at least a minute or two just to warm up. The shampoo and conditioner is some unknown brand to her. Probably expensive. It has a nice sent, light, not overpowering.

Stephanie may have spent longer than normal in there but that shower was amazing. When she finally does step out, she finds some clothes waiting for her on the bed. A large cotton shirt, words Gotham U printed on it and sweatpants.

Getting dressed, she heads out to find him. The apartment is large with an open floor plan. Floor to ceiling windows give a panoramic view of Gotham. And the décor is clearly done by Damian.

Where the manor is dark and gothic, steeped in Wayne history, here the place is a reflection of his blended heritage. Masks, swords and what looks like ancient scrolls frame the walls. Books upon books fill several shelves. Some are scattered throughout the open area. Bookmarks sticking out of many of them, showing these are not for show.

Damian is found at the long kitchen island, back turned, eating breakfast and reading a book. He is shirtless, hair looks damp. This place has another shower?

“I would like to thank you again for last night.” He says. Stephanie tries to reply when he continues. “Especially on such short notice.”

Ah, he’s talking to someone. As she gets closer she can now see his phone laying in front of him.

“Think nothing of it Damian.” Renata’s voice purrs his name. And he’s speaking to his _friend_. “I do owe you much more than a simple performance.”

Damian never did explained how he met Renata or what their relationship was or is. Stephanie is ashamed at the jealousy monster that rears its head. 

“Another time Renata.” He says in an even tone.

“You always say that!” She laughs light heartily. They both say their good byes before Damian turns his phone off. He turns to her, head nodding to the food on the island.

“I’m afraid it’s not waffles covered in syrup.” He hands her a warm bowl of what appears to be porridge. “All I have to offer is fresh cream of wheat, flavored with rosewater.”

“Rosewater?” It’s surprising good. “Thanks for making it. So, you’re up early.”

“I’m always up at this hour.” His response is curt. He’s agitated for some reason. “It’s Saturday, you may sleep in.”

“Thanks for the permission.” She eats another spoonful, her tone just as curt. He studies her as he slowly turns a page in his book. With a sigh, he slides in a bookmark right before closing the book, giving her his full attention.

“A little over a year ago I rescued Renata from some slavers and secured her a place here on Earth.”

“She’s an alien? Who knows your true identity?” Damian thinks, clearly cautious of how to respond.

“Yes, and it’s a long story. One I do not wish to relive.” He sips his coffee before continuing. “Her world was destroyed long ago and her people are scattered. They have an ability to manipulate emotions with their voice. An ability that makes them very sought after.”

“That explains her amazing singing.” She takes the stool beside him. “But I didn’t ask about her.”

“I just assumed by your tone. You seem upset.”

“And you assumed I was upset about Renata? You think I’m jealous? I assure you I’m not.” Ok, she’s slightly jealous. “But you’re the one who seems upset.” He sighs.

“I’m not.” His voice isn’t convincing and he knows it. “I’m just frustrated. That’s all.” 

That’s when she realizes how tired he looks. Such a young man facing heavy burdens. And really, what has she done to help? 

“Hey.” She says softly, running a hand through his hair. Damian sees her hand coming and doesn’t pull away. “Since it _is_ a Saturday, how about we make it a lazy day?”

“I’m allergic to lazy Brown.”

“Come on, we can do anything you want.” 

“Anything?” His eyes flash dangerously. Against her better judgment, Stephanie nods her head yes.

**Several Hours Later . . .**

“You-you’re not human.” Her breathing is labored and every muscle is on fire. Every. Muscle. Muscles she never knew about hurt. He stands over her, adjusting the tape covering his hands. He’s not even out of breath!

“Are you tapping out already? Old lady.” His smirk is infuriating and just the motivation she needs. With renewed energy, Stephanie pulls herself off from the floor and resumes a fighting stance.

Of course Damian’s idea of a day off is grueling sparring. She should have known though, especially when he brought her back to the safe house.

“No. You’re form is off again.” Sharp eyes evaluate her form as he drops his stance. He walks over to her and lifts her fist up slightly higher, moves behind her to pull back her shoulders.

If this were a romance novel, Damian would press close to her back, fingers trailing along her arms as he readjusts her position. Then those same fingers would trail down her sides, palms press ever so slightly against her hips as he whispers in her ear, lips grazing the skin there.

But this isn’t a novel, let alone a romantic one. Instead Damian is professional, respectful and not fooling around. He takes training very, very seriously.

And in hindsight, so should she. But it’s very hard to focus when he’s being all shirtless and dangerous. A lethal combination.

“T-t.” He must sense her distraction. She tries to straighten up but knows she’s been caught. “I really hope you never have to face an _attractive_ opponent. It might be your doom.” His arrogance and smugness burns her. She takes a swipe at him from behind.

He catches her elbow with ease, smirk growing.

“Yeah? Well I hope you never . . . face an opponent who’s . . . Um.” Wow. Even her brain is sore. Also, she cannot think of an opponent who would be a threat to him. “Completely unimpressed by your…you-ness.”

“Hmm, seems I have broken you. You’re making up words now.” He steps away from her and heads for a water bottle. He tosses one to her, lightly. “We’ll take a break.”

Her body nearly collapses at the word break. She stubbles with the water bottle but gratefully she doesn’t drop it. The coolness of the water down her throat feels wonderful.

“I will create a workout plan to help ease you back into our nightly activities. Though, I will need to know if you’re here just for this case or if you will be . . .if this will be more permanent?”

An excellent question. One she hoped she had more time to think over.

“One day at a time?” Her answer disappoints him. “We’re talking about me being Spoiler, right?” 

“Yes, of course.” It’s hard to tell if the tint coloring his cheeks is from exertion or from embarrassment.

“Because I don’t plan on cutting you out of my life again. I just don’t know if I can keep up with you on the roofs.”

“You’re not that much older than me. And why do you do that? Doubt yourself?”

“I know my limits Damian.” He puts his water bottle down with enough force to cause some water to spill out. With swift steps he closes the gap between them.

“I do not like my time being wasted.” She tries to protest but his eyes stop her. There is no anger there. “So I never waste it. If I didn’t think you could do this, could fight by my side. I would be doing this case alone.”

Stephanie always had felt like a tag along when she was Spoiler. Hearing that from him, Damian is unaware of what that means to her. Or maybe he does know?

“Thank you Damian. For having faith in me. But to stay on as Spoiler, that’s a decision I can’t make lightly.” 

“Nor am I asking you to. But I just want you to know . . . I do want you here.”

“I’m glad to be wanted. And I do want to be here.” Punches his shoulder. “Even though you can be unrelenting. Seriously, my arms feel like limp noodles.”

To make her point she waves them helplessly by her sides. Damian rolls his eyes at her, a small smile on his face.

“And here I was going easy on you.” He pokes her side. “I’ll show you unrelenting next time.”

“What’s this? Mercy?” 

“Brown.”

“Ok, ok, don’t want to push my luck. Ice cream?” She feels pride for catching him off guard. “I know you don’t like sweets, but there is such thing as sour flavors. Maybe you’d like a sorbet?”

He seems a bit sheepish.

“I actually don’t know of an ice cream place. Or are you suggesting going to a grocery store?”

“I know the best place in the whole city. It’ll be my treat.”

Once ready, Stephanie has to convince Damian to let her drive. It takes turning the outing into an undercover operation before he agrees to her logic. That isn’t far from the truth, they are incognito as they drive to her favorite ice cream place.

But in hindsight she really just wants to do something for him, no matter how small. The shop is near where she used to live when in college. The place is packed with college students, too involved in their phones to notice them.

Watching Damian around them, he sticks out like a sore thumb. He is of the same age group as them but looks worlds apart. Their fashion is a mix of colors and styles while Damian mimics his father, black turtleneck, even in the spring, sleeves rolled up and dress slacks.

He doesn’t seem to know what to do, waiting in line while people crowd the little tables around them. He observes them at first with indifference, then with a building curiosity. 

“What do you want?” His head whips around to face her, eyes wide. “They have some really unique flavors. Rose, lavender, saffron, black currant. That’s my favorite. And they have the traditional flavors. Oh! They have Earl Grey today! I’m getting that one.”

“Tea flavored ice cream?” He speaks the words like they were foreign to him. More like the concept was foreign. The idea that she’s about to broaden his horizons pleases her. He moves closer to the blackboards hanging over the counters, eyes squint as he surveys the list of flavors.

“Yeah, my favorites here are their tea flavors. They go really fast, everything is made fresh here. Want one, two or three scoops?”

“I . . .what is normally done?”

“I do two. You can have each scoop a different flavor. Over there they have suggested combinations. But I’m content with just one flavors.” She watches him review the combinations, see the gears turning. His eyes switch back to the flavors then moves to the bowls on display showing the difference in sizes.

Could it be? Is the unflappable Damian getting tripped up my ice cream?

“I do prefer sorbet. But I am curious about the Earl Grey.” He almost seems bashful in admitting that.

“Alright.” She wraps her arms around his, leaning into him. “I’ll get the black currant and you get the Earl Grey. We can share.”

He agrees and they order their tea flavored treat. With two scoops each, they leave the crowded shop and head back to the car. Stephanie promise to take him to a secret spot that enhances the taste of the ice cream.

“A cathedral? I wasn’t aware you were religious.” That makes her laugh.

“Nope, not in the least. But the bell tower has a great view. Don’t worry, the place is abandoned.”

“Yes, because a dilapidated hundred year old building is much better than being filled with people.”

“It’s a historical site now and is being restored. We just have to avoid the south tower, there’s mold there.” He gives her pointed look, Damian is not amused. “Trust me. The view is worth it.”

Yes, they are technically trespassing and their ice cream is melting but it is worth it once they get to the top of the tallest tower. The tower faces the older part of Gotham, free from skyscrapers and the glaring lights of advertisements. Trees, older than the city itself, brings a reminder that there is a world outside the city.

Damian takes it all in as he takes a bite of his treat. 

“This is surprisingly good.” He looks down at the ice cream in wonder. He then eyes her’s. She offers it to him, letting him take a scoop. His face scrunches up.

“It’s not for everyone.” They eat in silence and they don’t speak until they are done.

“I approve of this.” He says as he drops the wooden spoon into the now empty bowl. “Not of the trespassing. But of the ice cream. And of this break.”

“Glad you enjoyed this. We need to do this more often.” He eyes her. “Take a break and just enjoy the simpler things in life. We’ll save the trespassing for our nightly activities.”

They make it down unnoticed and enjoy a leisurely walk around the little park in front of the cathedral. The warmth of the day begins to wane with the sun’s descent into the horizon. The coming night reminds her of their unfinished work.

They agree to meet up later but at the manor. Damian retuning to the cave to update her suit. She, returns to her apartment to gather a travel bag. Stephanie no longer wants to rely on old shirts and sweats for her pajamas and she misses her pillow.

The elevator takes her up to her floor, she’s too tired for the stairs. And she’s especially too tired for what greets her once the elevator doors open. Outside her door is Megan Goller, dressed in golds and white. Beside her are the two male models from before, more clothed this time. The dress suits are tight against their muscles.

On purpose, she is sure of.

“Megan. I’m surprised to see you here.” Stephanie says as she slowly approaches them, keys out. The woman offers her a weak smile.

“Not nearly as surprised as I am to see you living . . .” She looks around with disgust. “Here. I would have thought with the way Damian is lavishing you with gifts and parading you around that an apartment in the Diamond district would be where I found you.”

“We’re not ready to move in together. Not that it’s any of your business. We’re in no such hurry.”

They eye each other, sizing the other up, for a few minutes before Megan snaps her fingers. One of the muscle men pulls out a golden envelope and hands it to Megan. Who then offers it to Stephanie. Who then takes it. It feels quite ridiculous to Stephanie.

Perfume emits from the golden paper. A red wax seal adorns the back, it’s rather dramatic. So very Megan Goller.

“I normally do not offer these to flings. But I will confess, you have me curious. So I am extending to you a free full day at my spa, _Goddess_.” Stephanie is surprised that sentence didn’t end with the men tossing rose petals into the air.

“How kind of you.” She deadpans.

“Of course it is. Though, I might be tempted to wave the yearly fee if you so wish to join.” Her grin stretches across perfectly white teeth.

“Doesn’t that fee include the services? Wouldn’t that make it all free?”

“Oh my sweet. Nothing is free. All I ask is you give me a little insight into the Wayne’s. They are such an impenetrable enigma.” Then she grounds out through clenched teeth. “That you somehow found a way through.”

“I’m not going to give you any details on his life. Especially for some spa.”

“Oh, you will find out my spa is very special. Well worth you providing me some teeny, tiny, bit of information. My dear, I don’t think you realize the power you hold in your hands.” It is unclear if she is referring to the golden envelope or to her connection to Damian.

Both are unsettling.

“Come any time you like. Just bring this with you.” One long finger taps the envelope. “And you will begin your journey to unleashing your inner goddess. Ta-ta!” And the woman literally flutters away, leaving Stephanie by her door with a perfume soaked envelope.

She quickly enters the safety of her apartment, back against her closed door, envelope still in hand. Stephanie pulls out her phone and makes the long awaited call.

“Damian, I got the envelope.”


	12. Circles

Chapter 12  
Circles

“Welcome to Goddess. How may I serve you today?” A beautiful woman in a white and gold uniform greets Stephanie as she walks to the reception desk.

The main lobby is large, windowless with high ceilings. Carmel colored wood panels climb all the way to the top. Soft fluffy clouds and blue sky are painted on the ceiling. White walls peek from behind the panels, a light from the floor give them a soft glow. 

There are several potted plants lining the walls, their green provides a nice contrast to the black marble floors. Overall, the design is modern and very appealing to Stephanie. She had thought the place would be covered in gold with marble statues of Greek goddesses. 

Or would they be Roman?

The only furniture in the lobby is the front desk. The wall behind the woman is made of stone, water flows down it. 

Stephanie hands over the envelope.

“Wonderful to see you Ms. Brown. Today you will be receiving a facial, body wrap, nails, hairs and meeting with a nutritionist.”

“Nutritionist? Ok.”

“Yes, here we purify both the outside and inside of your body.” She makes an entry to the computer. “Please, enter the door to your right. There are lockers there for your belongings and please change into a robe.”

Stephanie does as told and enters the large black glass doors. Again, she is greeted by a lone woman. Is she the only one here? There are rows of lockers and several dressing areas but no other guests. The lights are dim here for added privacy.

She is directed to a locker, inside is a cream colored fluffy robe and black slippers.

“Not gold?” Stephanie jokes as she pulls out the robe. She is only awarded with a tight smile as the woman directs her to a dressing room. 

Ok, no room for humor here.

When dressed, Stephanie is led down a long corridor. Rooms to her left, windows to her right. The widows give her a bird’s eye view of a gorgeous pool. It is styled like an ancient Roman bathhouse. At one end of the pool is a statue of a woman holding a bouquet of lilies. She is bent over the pool, water pouring out from the flowers into the pool.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 

“You don’t need one. But we can go out and purchase one if you are uncomfortable.”

“Well, there doesn’t look like anyone else is here. Am I the only one?”

“No, but we take great measures to provide the privacy for all our guests. Though that is a communal pool. Our guests like to show off the improvements they see from our treatments.”

“That doesn’t sound very private.” She mutters as they stop in front of an open door. Waiting inside is a normal looking spa room. The room is only illuminated by candles, soft music playing and there is a faint sent of lavender.

“Please disrobe and lie under the covers. Michelle will be here shortly.” The woman says before disappearing behind the door. She does as told wondering what will happen.

A woman enters shortly after Stephanie got under the covers. Michelle offers her a warm smile.

“Good day Ms. Brown. My name is Michelle and I will be doing your facial today.” She pulls up a chair and a small table with a light on it. It flashes in her face as Michelle puts on gloves. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah, I have sensitive skin. What are the products you use here?”

“Goddess uses only organic materials in our products. No harmful chemicals that can cause skin irritations. Our team of doctors have created a wonderful assortment of skin, nail and hair products. Our most famous is made from Amazon golden lilies.”

“Amazon?” Her words come out distorted as her face is turned to the right, then left. 

“Yes. Now let’s evaluate your skin to see how we can bring harmony back into it.” She runs a scanner over her face, it softly beeps as it glides across her skin. “Ah, your skin is very thirsty. There’s some scarring but overall little to no sun damage. Good job!”

“I got that Irish skin. So I use sunblock all year.” Michelle nods, typing on tablet.

“I’ll start with an oxygen treatment, that will purify your pores and remove the toxins. . .” Stephanie listens as the woman lists off several more treatments. Nothing stands out. As facials go it was pretty standard. After it was done her face does look healthier.

Michelle cleans up and informs her that the body scrub is next.

“Man or woman?” Michelle asks before heading out.

“Uh, woman is fine.” 

“Then Renee will be with you shortly.” The door softly clicks closed, leaving Stephanie alone. But it doesn’t last long. Renee enters, pulling in a cart with a large bowl and strips of cloth. Whatever is in that bowl smells like citrus and cloves?

“Hello Ms. Brown. I’m Renee and I will be doing your body wrap today. Have you done this before?”

“No, I have not.”

“Well, we do them differently here. I’m going to wipe your body down first with some lotus water and then dip the strips into our Amazon golden lily serum. Once done I’ll wrap you up like a mummy.” 

“My whole body?”

“Yes, even your hair. Don’t worry you will shower after this. You will feel a slight tingling, nothing major. That’s the serum working. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this.” Renee washes her down with long, slow strokes. The motion and the softness of the sponge is soothing. When done Renee asks her to sit up, the blanket held to her chest.

With long gloves on, Renee dips the first strip, the serum is thick and has an amber color to it. Excess serum is removed before Renee turns to her.

“We’ll start with your arms first.” Stephanie offers one arm, Renee takes hold of it as she begins to wrap the strip. A soft tingling is felt under the cloth. It feels nice, almost energizing.

The calmness of the setting is suddenly disturbed by the wailing of a fire alarm. Instinctively, Stephanie jumps from the bed and puts the robe on. She’s about to open the door when Renee grabs her, trying to pull off her robe.

“What are you doing? Don’t you hear the alarm?” She pushes back at the woman.

“I do! But you can’t leave with that serum on you!” She reaches into Stephanie’s robe and pulls free the strip, then shoves her out the door. “Please, go!”

Several robed guest spill out into the hallway, the smell of smoke taints the air. Panic courses through the robed guests as the staff directs them to the locker room. There staff block the lockers as they try to convince everyone to exit the building.

“Please, everything is ok. Your stuff will be returned once the alarm has been cleared.” A staff member shouts over the crowd. Eventually they corral everyone outside. Stephanie has no choice but to exit the building with them. She is very thankful the robe is long and thick. Standing outside in nothing but a robe is awkward. The way the other guests shift uncomfortably tells her she’s not alone in feeling that way.

Smoke can be seen coming from the back of the building. The woman around her start to fret about their stuff and some demand to go back in to get it. Or demand that the staff retrieve it.

Idiots.

She rubs her arm, still tingling from the wrap. Looking down at the flesh her eyes widen. Her arm skin is smooth and soft. Yet that isn’t what surprises her. A scar, from her time as Robin, is gone.

It was a small scar, just below her wrist and how she got it wasn’t worth telling. But it held an importance to her. That scar is the only proof of her time as Robin. Without it, it would feel like it never happened.

Dread fills her. Didn’t Damian say Wonder City might be where the lab is? Where the old Lazarus pit lays buried? Damian searched there, he said that area wasn’t disturbed. 

But nothing stays buried forever. Maybe there is a leak somewhere? But how did Megan learn about it? Or Dr. Po? Stephanie seriously hopes Damian’s mother isn’t involved.

What good fortune that the fire happened. If her hypothesis is correct, she was about to be wrapped in Lazarus soaked cloth! Stephanie never met Ra’s al Ghul but the stories of his madness is legendary. Madness caused from the pit.

It takes a good forty five minutes before they are allowed back in. In the chaos of worried guests trying to all fit at once into the locker room, Stephanie slips away back to her room. But the cart with the serum is gone. Heading back to the locker room, she spot checks the other rooms along the way.

None have anything that looks like the serum.

Fire marshal closes the spa for the rest of the day while they investigate the fire. Dressed and having her stuff back, Stephanie debates what to do. Now would be an excellent time to sneak in. Yet her suit is back at the cave.

Does she need it? Probably. But she can claim she dropped her phone or something if she gets caught. Yes, she can do this.

Stephanie monitors the fire crews surveying the scene from the shadows of an alleyway cross the street. She sees an opening when something catches her eyes. A figure comes from the opening she saw, not a staff meeting nor a firefighter. 

It’s Burt.

He looks around before darting away from the site. Great, why is he here? Now what does she do? Call Damian.

“Brown.” He picks up on the first ring. “Are you running?”

“Kinda, more like speed walking. Look there was a fire at the spa.” She hears an intake of breath. “I’m fine but now would be a good time to get there. I need you to pick up some Amazing golden lily serum. It’s the amber color one. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll head over there. What are you doing in the mean time.”

“Oh, going to have a talk with our buddy Burt.” 

“What, why?”

“I think he started the fire. Don’t worry I have a plan.” 

“Turn to three!” Damian says in a hurry, trying to catch her before she ends the call. 

“Will do.” She ends the call and pulls out from a hidden compartment an earpiece. Popping it in and setting it to the third frequency, the one Robin uses.

Burt weaves through the people with surprising ease, even at his fast pace. Stephanie, staying across the street from him and keeping out of his sight, pulls out the tracker device. One blue dot blinks at her.

Good, he still has the tracker on him. With this in hand, she dips into a side street and runs ahead of him. With one last check at the device, Stephanie moves onto the street, facing his direction. And with perfect timing, she “accidentally” bumps into him.

His form is as solid as she remembers, the air knocked out of her as she stumbles. Burt is gentlemanly enough to catch her. But Stephanie has other plans and makes sure her purse is dropped, contents spilling.

“Oh I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” She says, winded. Wide blue eyes stare at her in shock, then soften.

“No, it’s my fault.” His hands move down her arms and take hold of her hands. “I hope you’re not hurt.”

His large hands give her’s a light squeeze. He’s awfully forward. Stephanie pulls her hands away and begins picking up her stuff. Burt joins to help.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for not letting me fall on my face there.” He picks up her stuff, her Open Doors business card among the pile. Yet he doesn’t notice it. So Stephanie pulls out the blonde card and clumsily knocks the stuff out of his hands.

“Sorry! Blonde moment.” She makes sure she gets most of it leaving the card last. Burt picks it up.

“You work at Open Doors?”

“Volunteer. You know it?”

“Of it. Your card says you’re a counselor there.” He hands it back and helps her up. “Can-can we talk?”

“Yeah, I’m going there now.” He shakes his head no and pulls her towards a café.

“Can we talk here?” His head points to the café.

“Sure.” Being in the public is a good idea. They enter the café and are seated at a booth by the main window. The waitress takes their order, pancakes and coffee for Burt, iced tea and salad for Stephanie. 

When the waitress leaves, Burt looks around, fidgeting. She waits for him to be satisfied there are no eavesdroppers. Finally satisfied, Burt leans in, his voice above a whisper. “Batgirl said you could help.”

Batgirl? The hell? She looks nothing like Batgirl.

“Ok, tell me about this Batgirl. Cause I haven’t heard about her in a loooong time.”

“You want to hear about Batgirl and not why she said you can help?” Good point.

“Right, right. Actually, lets start first with introductions. I’m Stephanie.”

“I know. I saw your card.” Right, of course he did. “I’m Burt.”

“You have a last name, Burt?” He shifts uncomfortable.

“Not one worth giving.” So he’s going to be difficult. The mood swings in this guy. First he’s being overly friendly and now he’s all ice.

“Burt, you said you wanted to talk. Right?”

“I do but . . .what happened. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“The beginning is a good start.” He rubs his wrist, a fresh bandage.

“I came to Gotham for work. I’m a . . .” He cracks his knuckles. “a boxer. But business hasn’t been easy lately. Lost a few fights and I wouldn’t throw any. Made my boss especially mad at that last one. Ended up on the streets. Then I get jumped.”

“Jumped? Your boss?”

“I thought at first. Thought he sent some of the guys after me. But then I saw them and they were dressed like SWAT. After that it gets weird.” His voice trails off and becomes silent.

“It’s alright Burt. Please continue.”

“They put something in my wrist, right under the skin.” He stops talking when the waitress brings their food. “They knocked me out. When I woke, I’m in like some underground city. Couldn’t see the sky or nothing. There were more of those SWAT guys and others, prisoners. I recognized several from a few soup kitchens.”

Wait this isn’t what he told her as Spoiler.

“They made us dig. Dig up dirt under the streets, under the abandoned buildings. Anywhere we could get to dirt, we had to dig. We loaded carts up with the stuff and other prisoners would wheel it away.”

“Where did it go?”

“I asked that and I was told I didn’t want to know.” He grimace. “But if someone couldn’t dig anymore, they were added to the cart, along with the dirt. I have no idea how long I was there.”

“How did you get out?” 

“One day I was loading a cart and normally a few guys pull it away but they were short a man. So I was made to do it. We had to wheel it down a long tunnel, it was a maze down there. But there weren’t any guards along the way. I guess because they had trackers on us and knew we’d get lost. But I didn’t run then. I had to see what they where doing with all that dirt.”

“And what were they doing?” He leans across the table, face dark.

“Flowers. They were growing flowers.” And it all starts to click. The Lazarus pit must have seeped into the soil. That’s why they are digging it up. “But they don’t put them in the ground. No, they grow them in long containers above the ground. Want to know why?”

“How big are these containers?” She’s afraid of the answer.

“Big enough for a body.” Shit. “The strong work, the weak become plant food. They bury the people alive, let the flowers feed off them. Then these guys in lab coats extracting some kind of goo from the flowers. Heard them say something about sending it up to Goller.”

“And you escaped after that?”

“On the way back I ran. I ran through a maze of tunnels. I have no idea how I got out but I did. They chased me but Batgirl saved me.” Yeah, Spoiler did. And he lied to her. But why?

“So you met her. Why do you need me then?” 

“Cause I was a scared fool and I didn’t tell her what I just told you. I don’t know why, I just froze. But I need to find her. She needs to know.”

“Well, I don’t know how to contact her. But maybe you should go to the police? They deal with Batman all the time.”

“Fuck Batman.” Ok, that came out of left field. “I’ll work with Batgirl. Not that creep.”

“Work?” Oh snap, he’s gone vigilante. That explains him starting the fire. 

Realizing he may have said too much, Burt finishes his meal quickly. With his plate cleared, he downs the rest of his coffee in one gulp. 

“Look, if you can’t contact her then I’m wasting both our time. I have to keep moving.” He gets up from the table. He tries to pay for his meal but Stephanie stops him. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Burt, I do want to help.” She offers him her card. “If you need shelter or someone to talk to. Please consider it.” 

He takes the card, studying it. Pensive eyes drift to her own, holding them. It feels like he is trying to send her a silent message. 

With a nod, he pockets the card and leaves the café. Stephanie, no longer hungry, nurses her drink for a few minutes before calling for the bill.

“Safe house, now.” Robin’s voice comes over the comlink. Nothing else is needed to be said. She makes it back in record time. Robin is using the large projector to display a map of the underground tunnels on the wall. On a nearby table is her updated suit and a much fuller looking utility belt.

“In the last few minutes the sensors have picked up movement in the tunnels between here and here.” Damian inputs two points on the map. “That fire might have triggered this sudden action.”

Stephanie begins to suit up as she listens to Damian speak.

“The outer most point is close to the waterlines. Ideal location for growing plants.” Dick’s voice is heard. “And the other point is closet to Wonder City so that must be where they are digging.”

“How soon can the others be here?” The others? Nervous energy builds at the idea of seeing everyone.

“Cass is inbound, should be here within the hour. Kate is overseas and can’t make it. And Jason didn’t respond so I expect him to meet us there.”

“Todd is in the city?”

“Yeah, I’ve been keeping an eye on him, despite his efforts. So, you’re the lead for this operation. What do you want to do?”

Robin looks between the two points as he formulates a plan.

“You and Cass will take the diggers. Seeing Batman will alert the lab and they’ll send back up. That will give Spoiler and I time to collect intel at the lab. We need to know everything they are doing down there. And how much damage they’ve caused.”

“I get to be bait? Awesome. I’ll be sure to put on a show.” 

“Of course you will.” Robin mutters to himself. “Let me know when Cass is here.”

With that last command, Robin ends the call. He turns to face Spoiler, eyeing her. Most likely surveying the upgrades.

The suit does feel different, slightly heavier but still not restrictive. She does a few stretches to test the suit out.

“Good thing you made the upgrades when you did.” His mouth is in a grim line. Uh oh.

“I wasn’t able to make all that I wanted. But it will provide better protection from armor piercing bullets.” He steps closer to her. “That doesn’t mean you should go making yourself a target.”

“Ok, boss. I hear ya.” He smirks at that, liking to be called boss. Of course he would. “What are we going to do with Burt? Still think he works for Black Tower and this some trap?”

“If it is, it is quite elaborate. And not very cost effective. The fire did extensive damage to what looked like a storage area. If what you described was anywhere in that building, it would have been where the fire was started.”

“How did Burt get in and do that amount of damage or even know where to go?”

“How indeed? The security system was down as well. After this is done, I will have words with Burt.”

They spend the time going over the added tools in her belt. Her muscle memory is still good with the familiar tools. Yet she doesn’t argue with him, knowing he needs the distraction. Dick is giving him full reign on this. And Stephanie suspects the last time this happened, Damian lost the cowl.

Once word comes in Cass has arrived, they move out. The sensors pick up a flurry of activity in the tunnels. So that will not be the path they take. Instead Team Robin enters through the water system. 

The pipes in this area is a hodgepodge of newer pipes on top of older defunct ones. Robin is able to identify which of the pipes leads towards the area suspected to hold the lab. The more they follow the pipeline, the more the newer pipes fade. Decades of neglect and decay surrounds them as they get closer. 

Back a few turns, they came across where someone made altercations to the pipes, pilfering water. Finding this made things easier. Following the flow of water leads them to a door. Cameras watch the door and a security lock blocks them.

But further down the tunnel is an air duct that crosses over the area. Without a sound, they enter the dusty ducts. Spoiler is thankful for her mask.

“Robin, Orphan and I are at the dig site. Ten prisoners and eleven guards. They have drones and turrets set up. Looks like they are spooked.”

“Spoiler and I are about to enter the lab area.” Robin pops open the grate blocking the exit. They slip out and take for high ground. The area is wide, looks like it was an open market at one point. Old shops line the area, lab equipment and servers can be seen in their broken out windows. The hum of generators can be heard beneath them.

In the center of the open area is a three tiered water fountain with pipes extending out of it. A metal trellis provides support for the pipes as they hang above rows of coffin size containers. Flowers grow in the moistened soil, the petals have a golden sheen to them.

Besides the containers are I.V bags, the thin plastic tubings disappears into the soil. To Spoiler’s horror, a gaunt face peaks out from underneath the flowers. 

Those monsters. They are keeping these people alive so the flowers can feed on them.

“We just entered the lab.” Robin’s voice pulls her away from the buried bodies. “Seventeen guards, no drones and four lab workers, unarmed. Six prisoners loading a cart.”

“We were able to place explosives at the dock entrance. Sensors say the area is currently cleared. Just give the word.”

Robin watches the movement below them. The cart is almost full.

“Now.” He commands. A few seconds later the area rumbles and shakes at the explosion. The room erupts into panic.

“What the hell was that?” A lab worker shouts, their voice muffled by the hazmat suit. 

“Report!” A guard barks into his radio. Using the comlink taken from the guards in the subway, they tap into their communications.

“Whole tunnel collapsed! We have to leave before the authorities arrive.”

“You can’t leave! We’re still here!” 

Another voice cracks over the coms. “Batman! We have Batman here! At the dig-ah!” The voice is cut off. The guards spring to action, setting up turrets and ordering the prisoners back.

“Burn the plants!” The lead guard orders his crew. A lab worker jumps in front of the fuel used for the generators.

“No! We need them! It has taken me years to cultivate these. Without them we’ll have nothing!”

“Didn’t you hear? Batman is here and he just blocked our exit. We need to get you out of here, grab the data and leave the damn plants. They won’t fit through the tunnels!” 

“Five minutes! I need five minutes to remove the plants.” The lab worker turns to another worker. “Download the data. The rest of us will remove as many plants as we can.” 

“Dr. Po, this is Batman we’re talking about. We’re not getting five minutes!” The guard protests.

“Then do something! You know where he is, send your men over there, seal the area and kill him!” Dr. Po begins to remove the plants with the help of the others, dismissing the lead guard. He looks to protest but then orders ten of his men to the dig site. Then he orders the doors sealed and for more turrets to be set up. 

Alone lab worker runs up stairs into a building. Robin gives Spoiler the signal. She drops down and follows the person. They lead her right to a console. Spoiler waits for them to unlock the console before striking.

With swift movements, Spoiler renders them unconscious. She takes their place at the console, fingers gliding over the keyboard. 

“Robin, I’m in. Download is going to need at least three minutes.” Then she sees something. “This console controls the power grid here. I can shut the lights off if you like.”

“Do it.” The area is plunged into darkness, screams are heard as the lead guard tries to regain control. Spoiler joins Robin on the high ground. The upgrades to her suit allow her better visual in the darkness. She waits for Robin’s signal.

It comes in the form of two fingers pointing to two guards by the prisoners. She lands between them, her staff slamming into the unprotected backs of their heads. They fall into a heap as calls for someone to investigate are shouted out. Spoiler moves back to the rafters.

“Shit! We got two men down!” Five to go. Spoiler and a Robin work together on the remaining guards. They dance around their attacks, always remaining out of their reach and too close to shoot. With each takedown, the fear grows. The last remaining guard is absolutely terrified, gun shakes as he backs himself up against the only exit.

“I know you’re there! I’m not scared of you!” Robin slams down hard on the man, cutting off his shouting. At that, Spoiler turns the lights back on. The lab workers are huddled around the plants, hands up in surrender.

“No!” One lab worker leaps for a fallen gun, too far for Robin to stop them. But not for Spoiler. She drops down, kicking the gun away and using her staff to flip the person. Their helmet is knocked off, revealing Dr. Po.

“Please! Don’t! You have no idea what you are doing!” She cries out. Robin ties up the remaining lab workers, saving Dr. Po for last. He picks her up, slamming her face down into the soil, giving her a view of the victim buried there.

“I have an idea to what is going on her doctor. Do you?” He presses her face closer to the gaunt face. “Do you see what you have done?”

“Theses flowers are a miracle! They can heal all wounds, scars, sickness! Even grow back limbs!” There is no remorse, no regret in her voice. “With more research I might even reverse aging! End death as we know it!”

“Look at their face! You’re killing these people.” His voice is harsh but has no effect on her.

“These people are a drain on society! I’m making them productive for once in their life!” With a growl Robin pulls her away and throws her to the ground, a boot pins her.

“So this miracle is reserved for those who can pay.”

“Goller is just funding my research. What I give her is low levels of the serum. It doesn’t have the full impact of what it can do. I need to do more studies. I’m so close to getting this serum ready for mass production.”

“But the serum is proving unstable.” Robin tells her. Her eyes widen in shock. “Made your test subjects mad?”

“How-how do you know?”

“How did you find this place? Who told you to dig here?” She refuses to speak. He presses the boot harder. “Tell me!”

“Kill her!” One of the prisoners speaks up. “This bitch cuts our limbs off, remove organs and then uses that shit on us! We grow everything back but each time we lose our mind. And when that’s gone, we get turned into plant food! Kill her!”

Robin looks down at the woman below him, boot on her chest. The other prisoners begin to chant ‘kill her, kill her’. Their cries become a roar as Robin’s boot inches up to Dr. Po’s neck. His fists clenched.

Spoiler holds her breath as she watches. 

Robin, no!

Anger fills her, Dr. Po deserves punishment. Not death. But a darkness speaks in her heart: _Yes she does. The cycle won’t end unless she dies._

No, it might feel right, even good. But it’s wrong. She knows this. And so does Robin. He’s not a monster.

Robin slams his boot down, missing Dr. Po’s face by a centimeter.

“You will tell us everything.” He growls at her before knocking her out. They secure the lab workers, destroy the equipment and lead the prisoners out of the tunnels. Once the people see open sky, they fall to their knees, crying. 

Batman has already brought out his prisoners and called the authorities, giving them directions to the lab and dig site. With Dr. Po in toe, the team heads back to the cave. When the doctor is put in a cell, Dick pulls off the cowl.

“Great job team leader.” Dick says to Robin, patting him on the shoulder. “Your father will be proud.”

“You’re adding this to the case files?” Robin sounds surprised.

“Yup, this was a success. Spoiler, you got the data?” She tosses him memory card. “Thanks, hopefully we can figure out how this serum works.”

“Yeah, and hopefully once the doctor wakes, she can tell us how to remove those plants from the victims. Without killing them.” Stephanie watches the unconscious woman behind the tinted plexiglass.

Robin is silent as Dick heads to the computer. He looks troubled. It makes her walk over to him, pulling down her mask and hood. But Cass steps in front of her, mask off.

“C-Cass. Hi-oof!” Cass engulfs Stephanie in a hug, squeezing her tightly. “Hey, I missed you too.”

“Welcome . . .back?”

“Yes, I’m back. And it’s good to be.” Cass hugs her again. But Robin has her attention, he stands away from everyone. Ever the observant one, Cass gives Stephanie a small smile.

“Go to him.” There is so much catching up she wants to do with Cass but Robin is worrying her.

“Hey. We did it.” Stephanie says as she reaches him. Damian removes his mask, eyes hard. He doesn’t seem pleased. A call comes in suddenly, it’s Jason.

“Just letting you kids know I took care of Megan Goller, she was attempting to get away on a helicopter.”

“Jason.” Dick warns.

“No worries. She’s alive. I love taking down entitled assholes.” He sounds pleased with himself as Dick just sighs.

“As much as you like breaking into our safe houses.” Damian perks up at that.

“Ha, yeah, you can’t expect me to help out for free. Thanks for the new toys!” He signs out before his call could be traced.

“He had better not have touched my safe house.” Damian grumbles.

“Nah, he hit another one. One I knew he would be interested in so I planted bugs everywhere.”

“He’ll find them, you know.” Stephanie says as a Dick just laughs.

“Oh, I know he will. But it’ll be a pain to remove them all.” Dick has an interesting sense of humor. Damian isn’t laughing, instead he turn to her.

“We need to talk.” Ok. That sounds ominous. “Alone.”

He moves past her, towards the changing area. She doubts he wants to talk there but follows him in. And just as she thought he says nothing as he strips down to his under-armor. Stephanie does the same, keeping an eye on him as she does.

Damian avoids eye contact, but his thoughts are obviously grim. His jaw is stiff and eyes distant. When the suits are put away, Damian indicates for her to follow. Dick remains at the computer, typing away. Cass watches the doctor.

They head up to the manor together and make their way to the study. He lets her enter first, closing the door behind him. Stephanie makes it half way in before turning to him. He keeps a respectable distance from her.

“You didn’t try and stop me.” His voice is a whisper. “You saw and you didn’t try, didn’t say anything.”

“Damian, I . . .”

“Thank you.” He steps closer to her. A hand cupping her face. “For believing in me.” He pulls her in for a slow kiss. Foreheads touching when it ends.

“I knew you wouldn’t. You’re not a monster.” He hesitates. Pulling away to sit on the couch, he waves her over to join him.

“You trust me?” He asks. Stephanie nods, taking his hands in her own. “Then I need to trust you. I need to tell you what happened.”

“What happened? With this case? Or with . . .?” She lets the question hang.

“With how I lost the cowl.”


	13. Dream a Little Dream

Chapter Thirteen   
Dream a Little Dream

A green light flashes in the distance. Stephanie approaches slowly, weary of the surrounding darkness. As she moves closer, she can make out a figure. But with each step a ringing in her ears grow.

Yet she persists. Something familiar about the way the figure stands. Tim? She pushes forward and the sight of Red Robin comes into focus. He has his back to her, standing in front of some machine. Green light flashing in front of him.

The ringing grows louder.

“Tim!” She calls out. He looks over his shoulder at her and makes some adjustments to the machine. Suddenly the ringing stops.

“You can’t trust me.” What? Why would he say that? The ringing comes back, louder than before. Pain shoots through her head, causing her to collapse.

“Make it stop!” She pleas. “Please, Tim!” She’s suddenly thrown back into consciousness, nearly falling out of the bed.

Another dream of Tim. Why is she having these dreams?

_You’re forgetting him._

No she’s not. She could never forget him.

_Replacing him._

Damian’s face flashes in her mind. No, that’s not true either. She loved Tim. Nothing and no one will ever replace that part of her heart belonging to him. But that doesn’t mean she can’t move on. That she can’t allow herself to love again.

Love? It’s way too soon to even consider that with Damian. She’s not even sure this relationship will last now that the case has been solved. For all she knows, this could just be a fling. Two lonely people trying to find that human connection again.

No, that’s not true either. They are both lonely, that part is true. But there are real feelings of affection between them. Memories of last night, of Damian’s confession come back to her. He would never have opened up to someone he thought was a fling.

And that’s what draws her towards him. The young man is stubborn, arrogant and at times insufferable. He guards his heart like a tireless sentry. So when he does open up, when he lets you in, there is no denying his feelings. It’s almost pure.

Damian looked so vulnerable last night, sitting on that couch. The trust he showed her was moving.

**Last Night . . .**

“Alright.” Stephanie says softly. “Tell me what happened.” He squares his shoulders and raises his chin. A stance he takes when he readies himself for a blow.

“My first case as Batman, was Professor Pyg. Two victims of his were found and I was supposed to hunt him down. But not surprisingly, my father monitored my every move, questioned my every action. I felt more like Robin, back on my first day, than like Batman. It was infuriating.”

His eyes close as he takes a deep breath. He never lets go of her hand.

“It made me foolish. I let my pride get the better of me and I pushed back against him, even if I agreed with his suggestions. But I couldn’t accept anything he said because it felt too much like he didn’t trust me. Like an attack on me. I realize now he was acting as a concerned father. I am his child.”

“Have you told him this?”

“I didn’t allow myself the chance. My anger and shame stopped me. But after Grayson enters the case in, he will reach out. I hope I will have the strength then. Which is why I need to talk to you. I haven’t spoken to anyone about this.” His voice begins to trail off.

“You’ve told me many times before that we share this burden. And you are right.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “There is a strength is doing so.”

“Agreed. It took finding six more victims before I tracked that monster down. Eight lives lost, mutilated, tormented by Pyg. And each time I studied their broken bodies, I couldn’t help but think how that monster was free somewhere, also standing over a body. Creating his morbid art. It wasn’t until I broke into his hideout that I knew the true horror of what he had done.”

“There where twelve victims. Successful Dollotrons, according to Pyg. Their faces changed to look the same, bodies distorted to make it impossible to know their gender. Nerve damage so severe they felt nothing. Pyg had five more people in cages, he hadn’t gotten to them. I freed them, got them out of there but the others, wouldn’t listen. They stood there, completely mindless. So I left them where I found them.”

“I found Pyg just about to begin another round of surgery on his latest victim. I could tell they where female by the face but the rest of her . . .” He gets up and begins to pace. “We fought. The bastard was actually quite proficient with knifes. Both at throwing them and hiding them. He had an endless supply. But when I got close to beating him he summoned those he altered. I had to fight them as well as Pyg. It was frustrating, I was there to help them and I had to hurt them. Multiple of times.”

“Damian, you did so to save them.” He scoffs at that.

“Save them from what really? If you saw them . . . “

“I’ve read the case file on Pyg, I know what he does.”

“Reading about it is completely different than seeing it. Those people are dead on the inside. They were not saved. I didn’t save them! I spent too much time fighting my father, I didn’t get to them in time. I knew that then and I grew angry. So angry. At my father, at the police, at Pyg. And at myself.”

“Everyone of those victims was a failure of mine. Mine! When I finally knocked them all out, had Pyg by the throat, I was ready to kill him. I had his fat neck in my grasp and I squeezed.” The words come out as a dark hiss, his eyes scared her. There was murder behind them. 

“I watched him choke, claw at me, begging for his life with his eyes. But it wasn’t enough, he hadn’t even begun to suffer. Then I heard my father yelling at me, telling me to stop, to remember the code. But it was that code that brought us there. How many times have we tossed that worthless skin bag into Arkham? Just for him to escape. He had victims here in Gotham, but he had many more elsewhere.”

“The woman he had been working on woke up and started to panic. She hadn’t been completely transformed yet, she still had her mind. Seeing her made me realize I couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t become a monster. He wasn’t worth it. So I loosened my grip, let air back in his lungs. And that bastard pulled out a detonator I didn’t see. He had rigged the building to explode, vowing to never go back to Arkham.”

“Professor Pyg may have been proficient with knives but he wasn’t with explosives. He meant for the whole build to implode but just managed to blow up our exit. But the building he was hiding in was an old fake jewelry factory. And the company’s storing of their chemicals was abysmal. They buried it under the floors, unknown to safety inspectors and unknown to Pyg. The explosion started a chemical fire.”

“I managed to grab the woman and Pyg and get them to the roof. I tied Pyg to it and moved the woman to another roof. I left them to get the other victims out, they were still unconscious and there were so many of them. My father told me to get Pyg off the roof. I chose not to listen, focusing on getting those people out. By the time I did I went back but the fire had spread uncontrollably. I could see Pyg still on the roof, flames surrounding him, hear his screams. I was so close to reaching him when the roof collapsed, swallowing him whole. He died.”

“And your father blames you for his death?”

“He said I should have put him on a different roof. My choice not to got him killed. I told him I didn’t want to give him another chance to pull a trick and escape. That I thought I had enough time to get back to him. Then he just stopped yelling at me. He told me I needed to talk to Dr. Thompson. I refused, I was upset at my lack of foresight but I didn’t see the need to discuss my feelings. I told him I would learn from this and that I was ready to continue as Batman.”

He runs a hand through his hair, pulling slightly.

“That’s when he just stared at me. He wouldn’t say anything, just staring. I have never seen him look at me like that. He was so . . .disappointed.” Then in a smaller voice. “It broke me.”

“Damian. . .”

“That’s when he called Grayson to come to Gotham. He took the cowl and ordered me to go to college. We haven’t spoken after that. He left soon after. He didn’t even say good bye.” He collapses back onto the couch, exhausted.

“Do _you_ feel you’re ready to be Batman?” He mulls her question over. Face pinched in deep concentration. “I think your silence is your answer. And that’s what really is upsetting you. That even you know you’re not ready.”

“Stephanie.” He says her name like a plea. “I was genetically modified to be perfect. Trained for this, to be Batman. I should be ready.”

“You will never be ready.” He looks hurt, turns his face away from her but she pulls him back. “No one will ever be ready. Batman isn’t a job. It’s a tireless beast that will forever need feeding. It will devour your time, your life, your loved ones if you are not careful. And maybe that’s why your father wants you to go to college full time. He saw it devouring you. He doesn’t want you to become like him.” 

“But he took the cowl . . .”

“Did he say forever?”

“No, he said I needed time to live . . .” His shoulders slump at the realization. “Time to live a life outside of being Batman. You may be right.”

“I tend to be.” She leans towards him, letting him complete the contact. He pulls her into him, tucking her head under his chin. His heart beat is growing steady.

“A part of me did want him dead.” He confesses. “But then I returned to collect his last victim. She was laughing hysterically. Shouting, burn piggy, burn. Seeing him die, it didn’t help her heal. It made her worse. She’s now in Arkham for trying to kill Two-Face. I had to put her there.”

“Pyg is the reason, not you.”

“No, I literally put her there. She was the only case before your’s that I was allowed to do. As Robin of course. Grayson and I worked it together.”

“What happened with Pyg was not your fault.”

“I know that. But that feeling I had when I choked him, that voice telling me to kill him. It frightened me.”

“You’re not alone is having those thoughts. When you had your boot on Dr. Po and those people where chanting for you to kill her. I heard that voice then. And that’s why you’re father has that code. Because out of all of us, I bet he hears it the loudest.”

He holds her tighter. Burying his face into her hair.

“So I guess old age does make one wise.”

“Oh you!” She pinches his arm as they laugh, releasing pent up nervous energy. In that moment she never felt so connected to another person. It felt like a thin threat was connecting their hearts.

They stayed like that for hours. Just holding each other, talking about random things. Anything other than the second life buried beneath them.

When they both retired, they walked to the wing of the manor where the bedrooms where, hands held together. He gives her a kiss goodnight before disappearing into his own room. She took Tim’s old room, which was also her’s. Damian had asked if she wanted to stay with him, cheeks flushed. Ever the gentleman, he offered to sleep on the floor.

But she ensured him she would be fine. And now her thoughts are back to her dream. The room hadn’t been changed since Tim’s death. The lack of dust and clean sheets indicate that Alfred comes in here. But everything else remains undisturbed.

The site of his things must have triggered the dream. Yet, she had one before last night. The memory of it is faded now. But he said something to her then too. What was it?

A soft knock on the door draws her attention.

“Yes?” She calls out.

“Ms. Brown. I hope I am not disturbing you but I have breakfast waiting.” Alfred says through the door. “I made waffles and I have the syrup you enjoy.”

Bless that wonderful man.

“Thank you Alfred!” Thankfully she had some clothes still here. When dressed she heads to the kitchen. The sight warms her heart.

Alfred, with apron on, prepares breakfast as Dick, Cass and Damian sit at the table. By the fluster look on Damian, Dick must be teasing him. At seeing her, the grin on Dick’s face grows.

“Steph! Glad you’re up. Maybe you can clear something up for me.” He waves her over, Cass grinning as well. It feels like she never left.

“Grayson. I have a spoon and I will stab you.” Damian grips the spoon as he does his best death glare.

“Master Damian.” Alfred says without turning around. “What have I told you about stabbing your brothers?”

“Not at the table.” He grumbles as he eats a spoonful of porridge.

“Alright, what can I help clear up?” Stephanie takes a seat between Cass and Damian.

“So who came up with the cover idea for you two to be dating?” He points his spoon towards Damian. “This guy here never did explain that in his reports.”

“I do not see how that is relevant.” Alfred places a plate of fluffy homemade waffles with butter and syrup in front of her, eyeing Grayson with a warning. Grayson ignores the warning and pushes forward.

“Oh, it’s very relevant.” He wiggles his eyebrows. The spoon in Damian’s mouth looks like it might snap.

“It was a mutually agreed-upon decision. Megan would never offer me an invitation to her spa on my own.” Dick hums, eyes squinting as he watches them.

“And now?” He muses. Damian and her make eye contact. Are they ready to answer that?

“Master Grayson, I forgot to mention, a Ms. Honey called.” Dick whips his head towards Alfred.

“Honey called, when?” Dick looks panicked.

“Last night. Sorry, it must have slipped my mind.” He says innocently.

“Last night! Gah, I really wish Bruce would come back!” He scarfs down his breakfast before bolting out of the room.

“Thank you Alfred.” Stephanie says with a relieved smile. Damian nods in agreement.

“For the waffles.” He smiles back at her before turning away.

“Did Dr. Po wake last night?” Stephanie asks Cass, trying to keep the conversation away from her’s and Damian’s private life.

“Yes. Said she cannot remove without death.”

“We will have to reach out to Ivy for help.” Damian adds but Cass shakes her head no.

“Batman and I will.” Frustrated, Damian gets up from the table, empty dishes in hand.

“You know what your father said.” Alfred warns, taking the dishes from him.

“Did Bruce call in?” Stephanie cannot hide her curiosity. Everyone is so weird about his absence.

“No, Alfred is referring to what has already been discussed. I need to focus on getting ready for school. No more Robin. But September is four months away. What am I supposed to do till then?”

“I’m sure Ms. Brown can be of assistance.”

“Yeah, I have some ideas. The arcade, maybe a movie or we could go feed the ducks!” Damian mouths the words duck in surprise. “Or there is always Open Doors. They could use more volunteers.” She turns to Cass. “Cass, care to join us on our little adventure!”

Her eyes look past her towards Damian. “Can’t. Needed here. Another time, maybe?”

Ok? “Sure, I owe you a girls day out. Several in fact.” Cass laughs, hugging her before leaving as well. 

“Do you need to stop at your apartment or is this how you wish to be dressed today?” She looks down at her leggings and v-neck T-shirt. 

“If you’re going to hang with the college crowd, you’re going to have to learn how to dress less like you’re from the Omen.” He raises an eyebrow. “And you’re going to have to watch a lot of movies to catch up on all the pop culture references.”

**Several Hours Later . . .**

They exit the theater, arm in arm. Damian, for probably the first in his life is wearing blue jeans. He looks relaxed and comfortable in a black shirt and a light grey jacket. These clothes he picked out on his own, even though begrudgingly. But his attitude changed once he realized how comfortable they were and how easily he blended into the crowd.

No paparazzi can be seen, though Stephanie is sure the better ones are hidden. Yet, their presence isn’t felt nor missed.

“What did you think of the movie?” She asks as they walk down the street, arm-in-arm. 

“Ridiculous. Ryan Jackson should have died at least nine times. And I cannot forgive them for their disregard of physics.”

“Yeah, but it was fun watching him fight bad guys and blow stuff up.” 

“The fight scenes were inspiring. Whoever they hired to choreograph them did an excellent job. I am curious to try some of those moves out.” That makes Stephanie laugh out loud, she gives him a squeeze.

“Don’t ever change Damian.” He grins down at her, pulling them to a stop.

“Alright, Brown, since you’ve appointed yourself my ‘chill-guru’, what’s next?” They’ve gone shopping, had lunch at a food truck, despite his protests. Stephanie had promised to nurse him back to health if he were to fall ill. That promise got him to agree and after eating he admitted the food was tolerable. High praise from the food snob. It wasn’t lost on Stephanie that he cleared his plate.

After that they fed ducks and went to the movies. Now they stand in a bustling street, people out to enjoy the beautiful spring day. It’s too soon for dinner for them so she surveys the shops around them.

“Oh! Look, they’re starting their game night.” She points to a pub. “Let’s go there. We can play some games and get dinner later.”

“I . . .I don’t like board games.” She pulls him to the pub, the large front windows are open, letting in the pleasant spring air. A good size crowd sit around tables, cheering and laughing can be heard.

“Have you ever played any?” He shakes his head no. “Then how do you know?” He doesn’t resist as she leads them in. Damian looks around the room lost. Not sure where to go or what to do. Laughter to their right draws their attention. It’s a small group playing Jenga.

“Hey, got room for two more?” She asks the group.

“Sure, maybe one of you guys can beat the champ here?” A young man grins at them.

“Oh, you can try. But I take no prisoners.” The so called champ smiles at them. A smirk twitches at the corner of Damian’s mouth. He takes the seat across from the champ.

“Neither do I.” A collective of Ooo’s is heard from the group. “Damian.” He extends his hand to young man.

“Ok, Damian. I like your confidence.” He shakes Damian’s hand. “I’m Chris. These are my friends Liz, Jeff and Craig.”

“This is Stephanie, my girlfriend.” Stephanie can feel her cheeks burning as she offers them a polite wave.

“Alright, the rules are simple, no help from others. Everyone.” Chris eyes Jeff who just smiles sheepishly. “Everyone must be silent once the player touches the blocks. And once you touch a block, you have to use it. Want to go first?”

“I’ll let you start.” Clever Damian. He doesn’t know what this game is but his pride won’t let him ask. So he’ll watch Chris move and figure it out along the way.

What happens next is the longest game of Jenga ever. But that doesn’t mean it was boring, it certainly wasn’t. Damian catches on quickly and proves to be quite skilled at removing the blocks with exact precision. He places every block on top with steady hands. Even as the tower climbs, his plays barely moves it.

Chris is just as skilled. The two men don’t grab just any block, they analyzed, calculate each move. Setting traps for each other. It is an intense game. So much so their group grew and more on lookers come to watch these two masters.

All the while, Damian looks cool as a cucumber, pleased even. Chris however begins to worry as he watches Damian choose his next block. Skilled fingers move around the tower as it wobbles slightly. A sign they are close to the end. With bated breath, the crowd watches as Damian finally makes his choice.

With a hush from the crowd, Damian picks a block towards the bottom. She feels herself tensing as the tower begins to lean. He halts his movement, waiting for the tower to stabilize. Then he does a clean pull, the crowd let’s out their breath. Stephanie among them.

With steady hands, he places it on the top. Chris is sweating now, watching Damian pull his hand away with the tower still in tact. Damian sits back down, arms crossed, with a satisfied smirk. He knows he won. And by the look on Chris’s face, he knows it too.

The tower crumbles the second Chris touches it and the crowd cheers. Several pat Damian on the back. The two men shake hands good naturally.

“Best game ever. Are you a surgeon? I’ve never seen hands as steady as yours.” Chris asks as he begins to clean up. Damian helps, a smile on his face.

“I come from a line of surgeons.” His voice is full of pride, but not in a mocking way.

“Cool, you go to college here?”

“I will be in the fall. Gotham University, I’m majoring in International business law with a minor in economics.” Stephanie is surprised to see him openly talk about it.

“I will be starting there too in the fall. Majoring in Engineering with a minor in mathematics. What dorm are you in?”

“I . . .I have my own apartment.” Uh oh. He’s looking unsure.

“Nice! How about you Stephanie?” 

“I already graduated. Majored in psychology.”

“I’m doing that!” Craig says. “We should hang out some time. I would love any tips or notes. I hear Professor Taylor is hard.” 

“Oh, he’s brutal! I would be glad to help.” 

“Say, the guys and I are thinking of putting a pub crawl team together. Just to play the games and trivia. None of us can drink yet.” Liz says to them. “You guys want to join?”

“Trivia?” Damian asks, his interest peaking. They really will need to brush up on his pop culture.

“Yes! Join our team. Please?” Liz asks as the others agree. Damian looks to her for direction.

“Sure, lets exchange numbers.” For the next few minutes they exchange numbers and plan to meet again on Friday for trivia night. After that they bid the group farewell.

“I gave them my number.” He sounds dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you did.” They stroll down the street as the night sets in. The street lights begin to turn on.

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Are you regretting it?” Stephanie begins to worry.

“What? No. I just am surprised at myself.”

“I hope you enjoyed yourself?” He pulls her close, kissing her.

“I did. Thank you. This has been fun.” He speaks that last word like it is foreign to him. Probably is.

“Think you can handle the next four years not jumping across roofs?” His smile drops.

“No.” But the smile comes back. “But it might not be as intolerable as I thought.”

A crash is heard in the alleyway beside them. Two men are ganging up on a lone man. He tries to block their blows, landing a few of his own. One of the attackers growls in frustration, a flash of silver is seen as he pulls out a knife.

They react instantly. Together they even the odds pushing the men away. With a flip of his wrist, Damian disarms the man with the knife in a second, he cries in pain. Realizing they are out numbered, the two men flee down the darken alleyway.

“You ok?” She helps the man up, blue eyes catch her own. “Burt?”

Damian stiffens at the name, his sharp eyes zero in on the man.

“Stephanie, you have an impressive right hook.” He chuckles, lip busted. “Did they hurt you?” His voice holds a dark promise.

“If she is hurt, it’s no thanks to you.” The absolute malice that radiates off Burt feels like a physical force. Damian senses this, readying himself for a fight.

“Who’s the kid?” Burt seethes out. The two men glare at each other, looking like they are ready to rip each other apart. What the hell is with all this hostility?

“My boyfriend.” And just as the word leaves her mouth, Burt throws a punch towards Damian. He easily misses it but Burt is ready for Damian’s counter and blocks him with a hard punch to his gut. The force is brutal, sending Damian to the ground.

The hell? How did he get so fast? Those two punks were just working him over and here he just dropped Damian with one blow. Without thinking, Stephanie slams her elbow into his temple. Burt stumbles, his body begins to flicker. 

Rushing over to help Damian up, Stephanie keeps an eye on the strange man. Burt laughs as he touches his temple. Sparks shoot out from where she hit him.

“Perfect blow there Steph. You took out my imager. Though, I doubt that was your plan. You always had such amazing dumb luck.” He digs his fingers into the temple, pulling some kind of tech off. With a flick he tosses it to the ground. The full image of a Burt disappears.

Dread, confusion and fear swirls within her. Standing before them is Batman.


	14. Wicked

Chapter Fourteen 

_By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes._

The image of Burt falls away to reveal Batman. But blood knows blood. And that man is not his father. So who is he?

And how **dare** he wear that cowl.

“I had planned for this reveal to happen latter. But _you_ always have a way of ruining things.” The imposter says to Damian with a disturbing calmness. The throbbing in his side is a painful reminder of this man’s uncontrolled rage. He wanted to cripple Damian with that blow, was probably going to if Stephanie hadn’t attacked.

The way she didn’t hesitate to strike endeared her even more to him. But his admiring of her bravery will need to be put off for later. Right now he needs to focus on this man. His sudden which from rage to this calmness has Dammit weary. 

Stephanie stands between them, even though she knows the risk. Even if she had her upgraded suit or gadgets, she doesn’t stand a chance against this man. Damian needs to come up with a plan and fast.

He rubs his side, ribs might be broken, and he reaches for the emergency call button hidden within his jacket. Now they just need to stall long enough for Grayson and Cass to get here.

“Why are you attacking us? Batman doesn’t just attack people.” Stephanie’s voice is tensed, back rigid. 

“You know you’re both not just people, Spoiler.” He straightens himself to his full height, towering over her. “Robin.” Damian readies himself to pull her away from his reach. Yet the man doesn’t attack.

“Ok, you know who we are. Now tell us who you are.” He smirks at her and Damian sees the move a second too late. A smoke bomb is tossed down filling his lungs with fire. Bastard added pepper spray to it. Damian tries to reach for Stephanie before his eye swell. But a gust of wind pushes him away, the familiar sound of a grappling gun shoots off. Dammit! He took her.

He tries to grab at the fast moving figure but his eyes burn and his movement are sluggish. All he manages is to touch Stephanie’s hair a second before she is pulled up. Her hair slipping through his fingers.

Years of training prevent him from calling out, sparing his lungs further damage. He pushes his body deeper down the alleyway and out of the smoke. Fresh air cools his burning lungs, his eyes still watery, Damian looks for a way up to the roofs.

He sees a fire escape and forces himself up despite the pain in his sides. Damian pushes through it, if he could climb a damned mountain with a broken arm, he can climb these stairs. He makes it to the roof and scans for any sign of them. Just two roofs away he can see a large cloud of smoke hanging in the air.

A short distance away is Stephanie and the imposter. She must have triggered his smoke bombs midair, causing him to drop her. 

Clever woman.

Damian pushes his body forward, eyes spotting a repairman’s toolkit. He grabs a hammer from it just before leaping across. Pain shoots through him when he lands but he doesn’t stop, speeding up for the next leap. Just one more roof!

Stephanie dodges out of the man’s grasp, but he doesn’t seem to be trying to hurt her. Damian lands on their roof with a roll. Using the momentum he throws himself at the man, hammer raised.

He swings the hammer down on the back of a knee causing the man to stumble. Stephanie uses this moment to slam her knee under his chin. But he’s faster and grabs her leg. With a hard twist he sends her crashing to the ground.

With a cry of rage, Damian slams the hammer down on the man’s skull. Just as Damian expected, he is ready for the blow. The imposter grabs Damian but the action makes him turn his back on Stephanie. She picks herself up and grabs the edge of the cape, flipping it over the fake Batman both blinding and binding him. She yanks back hard on the cape, tighten it across his torso to keep his arms pined. 

Damian slams his fist into the man’s face several times but he doesn’t go down. Stephanie is struggling to hold him. Suddenly electricity courses through his suit, sending them both flying. Vision becomes fuzzy as Damian lands on his back.

The figure of Batman hovers over him, the words he speaks ring like an distant echo. He holds something towards Damian’s face. As his eyes regain focus he can make out the gun pointed at him.

A blonde blur blocks his view. Stephanie!

“No!” Stephanie stands between them, arms out. “You can’t shoot him. Batman doesn’t kill.”

“Yet here I am. With a gun. Move Stephanie, I don’t want you dead.”

“I’m not moving. And you’re not Batman.” She seethes. The man chuckles at her, lowering the gun.

“I’m the Batman this world needs.” He pulls down the cowl, revealing a face that looks familiar. But that’s impossible. “I found the solution, Steph.”

“N-no. No, no! You are not Tim!” Her body shakes but her guard never goes down. “Why are you so much older?”

“The drone attack sent me a few decades down the road. It’s taken me longer than I would have liked to get back here.” He looks at her with such sadness. “It is sure good to see you.”

“If you’re really Tim, why did you attack us!”

“I’m sorry about that. I never meant to hurt you. But him.” His cold eyes land on Damian’s. “He deserves it. And I know, no matter what I’ll say, you will defend him. You always thought he could be saved. But you must trust me Stephanie. Damian will betray us. He will burn this city to the ground. And I am here to stop him from ruining our lives.”

“Trust you.” She whispers. “No. I won’t. And I won’t let you shoot him.” Disappointment crosses his face before he pulls the cowl back on.

“You know you’re not blocking him well enough? That I can make the shot.” He aims the gun towards Damian. “And miss you completely.” By Damian’s calculations Drake is correct. Hopefully Stephanie doesn’t try and take the bullet. 

“I would **never** forgive you.” She pours hot venom into each word. Drake doesn’t even flinch, his mouth curves downward.

“I know. I’ve lived with that for a very long time.” He lets the implication sink in. With a cry she throws herself down onto Damian, using her full body to protect him. Damian’s mind races as he tries to come up with a plan. 

Drake shakes his head sadly as he readies the shot. 

The shot rings out. Damian tenses, gripping Stephanie and rolling them away. Drake cries out as he drops the gun. It lays destroyed by his feet, a bullet having torn through it.

“Damn you Jason!” Drakes calls out. Red Hood takes another shot, forcing Drake back and right into the path of Grayson. The acrobat sails down onto him, boots slamming hard into his chest. The force sends Drake even further away from them. Orphan silently appears beside them.

“Ok?” She asks, keeping an eye on the fight before them. This Drake is fast and far more skilled than the Drake Damian rememberers. Every blow Grayson throws is blocked and returned twofold. It’s as if Drake has some type of clairvoyance to what Grayson is going to do.

The only thing probably saving Grayson are the shots Red Hood takes. Well placed bullets keep Drake off balance giving Grayson some breathing room.

“No, he broke at least two ribs.” Damian winches as he touches his tender side. “Definitely two.”

“I’ll get you down-”

“Enough!” Drake over powers Grayson, tossing him to the ground. He taps something on his gauntlet and a portal opens behind him. The view within looks like a machine of some kind, a green light flashes in the background. “This isn’t over.” He promises before fleeing into the portal.

With him gone, Damian feels his energy drain from his body. Stephanie calls out his name as his vision goes black. Damian isn’t worried. Because he agrees with Drake. This isn’t over.

When he finally emerge from unconsciousness, Damian finds himself in the cave’s infirmary. Chest wrapped and limbs feeling like lead. He tries to see if anyone is near. The white curtains are closed and sitting in a chair beside his bed is Stephanie. 

Her eyes move rapidly behind her eyelids. Judging by the scowl on her face, it isn’t a pleasant dream. Her arms are bandaged and her skin is pale, blotchy. She’s been crying?

She wakes with a start, arms reaching out before her, grasping at air. Or grasping at some figure in her dream. Eyes filled with tears move over to him. At the sight of him being awake, Stephanie leaps out of the chair, rubbing her eyes.

“You’re awake. Had me worried there.”

“T-t. Such little faith you have in me. Besides, I’ve been in worse fights.”

“Yeah but those fights happened while you wore protective gear. I’m sorry I made you leave your weapons here.” It annoys him that she keeps apologizing for things that are out of her control. No doubt a byproduct from her upbringing. Damian hopes to get her to drop that habit.

“Don’t apologize for events beyond your control. Learn from them.”

“So always let you carry weapons?” He nods, instantly regretting the action. His head feels like it’s swimming.

“Where are the others? Have we locked down the cave, the manor? The codes need to be changed.”

“Slow down, you still need to rest.” Her hands gently push him back down. He grabs hold of her wrist, examining the bandages.

“What about you?” She has the good sense to look caught.

“That electric shock trick burned me. But nothing as serious as broken ribs.”

“I was genetically modified to heal faster than the average person.” To prove his point he sits up. His side is still a bit tender but he’s felt worse. “I need to move. And we need to prepare for Drake’s return.”

“We are. Jason and Cass are patrolling the grounds and Dick has changed the codes. Kate’s on her way and a message has been sent to your father.” She pushes him more firmly into the bed. “He’s on his way here. And you still need rest. I will tie you down to this bed if I have too.”

“You promise?” Her eyes widen as she halts her movements. Then she smirks at him, drawing closer.

“Did you just make a joke?” Her voice husky. It makes his mouth feel dry. “A dirty joke?”

“And this is why I don’t make them.” She kisses his nose with a laugh.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was a good one. The timing is just inconvenient.” She tucks him back into the bed. “But it’s good insight into your tastes.” And she winks at him. Damn Drake.

The curtain is pulled back suddenly to reveal Grayson. He looks between them before breaking into a grin. Damn him too.

“Glad to see you’re both feeling better.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. A clear sign Grayson is worried. “Stephanie, anything?” That draws Damian’s attention back to her. She shakes her head no.

“I didn’t dream of him this time.” She is nervous when she looks to him. “I’ve been having dreams of Tim. Not the psycho we met today.”

“What do you mean?” He tries to temper his voice. She’s been holding this back from him?

“Before this, I dreamt of Tim, dressed like he was when he . . .died. He told me to not trust him. At the time it didn’t make any sense. That was until this psycho claimed he was our Tim from the future and asked me to trust him. I think . . .maybe the dreams are from the real Tim and he’s trying to warn us. I had hoped sleeping would trigger another such dream. But no luck.” 

“Well, I reached out to Zatanna. Maybe she can explain what could be happening here. Cause I agree he’s not our Tim.” Grayson just had to call the magician. Damian isn’t fond of magic.

“Right, how could an attack from drones send anyone to the future?” Stephanie rubs the back of her neck, most likely sore from sleeping on the chair. Grayson eyes bore into him. Damian refuses to look at him. “But then who is this Tim I’m dreaming about?”

No, not now. 

“Who knows Stephanie. Zatanna might give us some answers. But on a lighter note.” The acrobat says with a shrug. “We now know Bruce’s sensors work. It did detect a portal opening. That means if he returns through one we’ll know.”

“How much of a warning does it give us?” Stephanie starts twirl a hank of hair around her finger, a sign she’s stressed.

“A few seconds.” Grayson holds his hands up. “I know, I know that’s not enough but it’s better than nothing.”

And as if Grayson’s words angered the Fates, the alarm goes off. Everyone tenses and search for the source of the alarm. A few feet away a ball of light appears and grows in size, the light temporarily blinds them.

“Esolc!” A voice shouts out and the light is cut off. Standing near by is Zatanna, hands on her hips. “Hey guys.”

“Thanks for the heart attack there Z. Next time use the door.”

“Sorry Dick, but your message seemed urgent.” She looks at Damian, then to Stephanie and back to Grayson. “Wow, you guys really are shook. You want to fill me in?” 

Grayson pulls the magician away, telling her what has been happening. Once out of earshot, Stephanie lets out a deep sigh.

“What a whirlwind. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since we took down Goller and Dr. Po and we’re already thrown into another crisis.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “This, this I don’t miss.”

“Is Dr. Po still here?” She shakes her head no.

“Dick dropped her off at police HQ. Ivy couldn’t help, the plants consumed too much and we lost everyone.” He lays his hand on her’s, trying to give her some comfort. “But now we got a crazed Tim on our hands to distract us from the loss. What do you think he meant by you betraying us? Ever have thoughts of burning Gotham down?”

Yes and in his youth he thought about it almost everyday. Now he occasionally thinks about it. But mostly out of frustration.

“It had crossed my mind. I did once share my grandfather’s belief of ‘cleaning the slate’. I know that’s not a solution now. Drake is wrong.”

“Hmm, I just can’t wrap my mind around this. Why lie to us about who he is?”

“To gain _your_ trust.”

“Hmm, attacking you like he did is a weird way to gain my trust. He has to be from a different Earth. But why come here? Did his world end?”

“I will be sure to ask him when I interrogate him.” She laughs at that, giving his shoulder a light slap.

“Why am I not the one interrogating him? I get a feeling he won’t like talking to you.” He tries very hard not to roll his eyes. But she sees it. “I can do it.”

“This isn’t about whether or not you can. It’s more about if you should. He is a former lover.”

“Let me stop you right there. He’s not the Tim I know. And you heard him. He implied he killed you. And he tried to do it here.” Her hand grips his, her eyes fierce. “I will not allow that to happen.”

He wants to kiss her just as fiercely as her vow.

But Zatanna has other plans. The magician comes back and waves Stephanie over, who complies.

“So I hear you’ve been having dreams.” She pokes Stephanie’s forehead. “If you’re up for it I know a spell that can help.” 

“Well, I’ve never taken part in a spell before. Why not, if it can help.” She gives Damian a little wave before following Zatanna behind the curtain. The idea of Stephanie taking part in a spell unsettles him. Damian has experience with spell craft and none pleasant.

Though, the real reason for his discomfort is the possibility that Stephanie’s theory about this older Drake is correct. That he’s an imposter posing as their Drake and the real one is alive and is reaching out to warn her. 

His father has theorized that Drake could be alive, trapped somewhere. He believed in it so much that he abandoned Gotham to Grayson for the past three years. And a selfish part of him had refused to share his father’s belief. More so once he got Stephanie back in his life. 

_She’ll leave you for him_.

Then so be it, his pride says. If that happens it shows the strength of their fledgling relationship. He can still save his heart from the pain of rejection. And that’s the truth of it, really. Why he never progressed their relationship further. In the back of his mind he knows his father is rarely wrong. And the longer his father chases after this theory the harder it is for Damian to deny it. 

And now these dreams just drives the possibility home. His heart feels sick. He needs to prepare for the possibility of Drake’s return. Of losing Stephanie. Luckily his heart has been broken before, allowing him to know what to expect.

With the walls around his heart reinforced, Damian closes his eyes. He may heal faster then normal people but to do so he does rest.

———

“You can’t trust me.” Tim’s voice comes in clear. In fact, every detail is in sharp focus. His Red Robin suit looks battered, cuts and scrapes fresh on his exposed skin. Dirt and grim mar his handsome face. A face that hasn’t aged since she last saw him five years ago.

“You can’t trust me.” His voice repeats as Zatanna walks around his image. She taps her chin as she surveys the scene.

“Interesting.” She muses. “Is this how you remember him?”

“He’s the age I remember but when I last saw him he wasn’t this beat up.” She reaches a hand out to touch the image of Tim. The image is solid but holds no warmth. All she can feel is that her hand is touching something. 

“Hmm, how about the equipment? Is that familiar?” Stephanie spent many hours watching Tim working his solution on the computer. Complex calculations running across the screens as he toiled away. How many dates had to be canceled because of that damn machine? How many broken promises? Stephanie once thought about laying in their bed naked with nothing but those calculations all over her body.

But that would have required him to actually sleep. 

“No. This isn’t something found in the Batcave. But when evil Tim fled, there was a green flashing light much like this one.” Zatanna gives her a curious look. Crap, can she see her thoughts? While in her thoughts? 

“Evil Tim?” She smiles at her and Stephanie is relieved.

“What else should I call him?” Zatanna shrugs and then waves her hands, fingers glowing with power. The trails of light her fingers make is memorizing. A dizziness takes over her as the image of Tim warps into the roof from earlier. 

She sees the static image of herself with Damian on the ground, Cass kneeling besides them. Evil Tim and Dick fight before them. A bullet, frozen in the air, is aimed to hit the ground near the two Batmans. 

“Weird, I don’t remember this level of detail.”

“You don’t but you’re brain certainly does. Most people only have access to a small percentage of their brain’s power. Luckily I can access it.” Zatanna holds out a hand, a glowing circle appears before it. She turns her hand to the right, rotating the circle. The image fast forwards to where the portal is summoned. It’s a rectangle and opens like a sliding door. She moves it further to watch him slowly jump in and reverse back to the opening of the portal.

The machine is very similar to what she saw in her dream. But still different enough to make her doubts grow.

“I’ve never seen a portal like this. Mind if I copy this?” Zatanna asks.

“I assume that means it will hurt?”

“Not really. Just will feel weird. I ask because memories are personal. Some people don’t want them copied. You won’t lose them but I will be sharing these with others. People far more experienced in dreams and portals.”

“Have at it.” Suddenly she feels a thousand little needles pricking her brain making her instantly regret agreeing to it. The world around her disappears and her body feels like it’s free falling. She’s thrown back into into the real world with a start.

Motion sickness consumes her as she rubs her sore head. Above her is the cave’s ceiling, the coldness of floor has seeped into her, making her shiver. Zatanna looks down at Stephanie from her position. Stephanie is laying down on the floor, a ring of magic surrounds her with glowing symbols. A smaller circle lays above the top of her head where Zatanna sits.

“Give yourself a few minutes before standing.” She grins at Stephanie as she stands up, the magic ring fading away. Stephanie waves her off, remaining on the floor. Even if she did want to get up, she couldn’t. 

Magic sucks.

The alarm goes off again and Stephanie groans. She just wants five minutes of peace! A flash of light blinds her and as it fades there are two forms standing over her.

Bruce Wayne is dressed like he’s been climbing Everest, body caked in melting snow. She can’t see his face behind the face mask but there is no mistaking that presence. He removes the mask to look down at her.

“Stephanie.” He says as he offers her a hand. He pulls her up with ease, hands colder than the floor.

“Bruce.” She eyes the second figure with him. It’s a man she’s only seen in passing but his reputation is well known. John Constantine grins at her, he’s wearing the famous trench coat, tie lose around his neck. A lit cigarette between his fingers.

“You let Zatanna in your head?” His voice is mocking.

“How did you know?” She regrets asking that. Of course someone like him would be able to tell.

“I know her handy work. Next time love, ask someone who knows what they are doing.”

“Wait, is something wrong? Am I going to be ok?” Her equilibrium is still off but her memories are still in tack.

“Nothing is wrong. John is just being an ass.” Zatanna joins them. “As is expected.”

Bruce doesn’t join the conversation, instead moves towards the main computer. He pulls out a memory card from a case strapped to his side. He plugs it in and begins typing away.

“How soon will Kate be here.” He asks to Dick.

“In another hour. Great to see you and I’m good by the way. I would also like to inform you that Gotham hasn’t burned down once on my watch.”

“I noticed. Thank you Dick. Where is Damian?” He doesn’t even look away from the screen. It reminds her of Tim. And is just as annoying.

“I am here father.” Damian steps into view. To her surprise he does look better. “What are you doing?”

Bruce types a few more strokes before turning around to face everyone. The computer screen shows a program downloading.

“I’m updating the sensors I’ve installed throughout the city to now block the opening of portals. When Tim returns, he won’t be fleeing through one.”

“You can do that?” Zatanna is surprised by this. She looks to Constantine for answers.

“I hope so. I’m done being dragged all over the world tracking this fool.”

“So you’ve known about this imposter?” Stephanie is beyond incensed and she doesn’t hold back her anger. This really should not come as a surprise. Bruce isn’t know for sharing his plans. “For how long?”

Bruce looks at Stephanie apologetically. “I set up these sensors after the invasion by Darkseid. Since then they have only gone off once and that was during the drone attack.” Stephanie bites her tongue as Bruce speaks. “The sensors couldn’t pin down the exact location but it was close enough to Tim for there to be a chance he’s alive.”

She wants to chew him out. But no, she needs to let him finish. With Bruce, there’s always more.

“I sought out Constantine to help study the site but it proved futile. We could only find small traces of energy from a portal. Too small to try and reopen it.”

“Until about three years ago when I sensed the same energy again. And like an idiot I told Batman.” Constantine takes a drag from his cigarette. “No good deed.” He mutters.

“We’ve been tracking this energy all over the world but always missing whoever was creating it. But the data I’ve been collecting has helped me create this upgrade.”

“Why do you think the person you’ve been tracking is the same person we faced today?” Damian crosses his arms over his chest, he tries to hide his wince. 

“We don’t. Not yet at least.” Constantine let’s out a puff of smoke as he walks over to Damian. He eyes the younger man, getting into his personal space. Damian looks ready to shove the man away when Constantine turns to her and does the same.

“You both have residual energy from the time stream on you. Similar to the energy we’re been tracking.”

“Time stream, so he _is_ from the future?” Stephanie watches Constantine as he steps back.

“You only get that nice glow when you’re been playing leap frog through time.” He tut tuts. “But that doesn’t mean he’s from ours.”

“Yes, his actions have made it difficult for us pin him down. Where he disappears to is unknown. We just know he’s not staying on this Earth.” Bruce turns back to the computer. “Hopefully we can finally corner him and get some answers.”

“So this Tim . . . Is there a possibility he could have taken our Tim? Right before the drones attacked?” Hope springs in her heart. Could it be possible? Constantine chooses to answer.

“There are two theories. One, the drone attack somehow opened a time riff and threw poor Timothy into the future and he’s tearing back through time to try and fix it.” Constantine uses his fingers to mimic a gun and shoots Damian, who is anything but amused.

“The second theory is he’s from a doomed Earth and is pissing in multiple time streams trying to find one that is just right for him.” Again, he mimics shooting Damian. “Timothy being dead would make this an ideal place for him. The time stream would push back on him if Tim were alive. Both cannot exist in the same time stream. Either way we need to find him and stop him. Preferably before he destroys reality as we know it.”

“Right, time manipulation is extremely dangerous.” Zatanna glares at Constantine. “Why haven’t you discussed this with me? Either of you!” She points an accusatory finger at the two men.

“I thought we weren’t talking.” Constantine gives her a lazy grin. It causes her to huff in frustration.

“John and I had it covered.” Is all Bruce gives her. “Until the upgrades are done, no one leaves the cave or manor. Tim cannot fight all of us at once.” That comment is directed to Damian.

“Why are we wasting time trying the catch him? You said you were gathering data to find a way to open the portal. So let’s open it and take the fight to him.” Damian makes a good point. But Bruce shakes his head no.

“The amount of sustainable power needed to do that, I just don’t have. It will take too long to build. We must catch him.”

“You mean we must save him.” Damian doesn’t hide his disgust. “Even though he’s admitted to killing me. Your son.”

“Damian.” Bruce warns. The temperature in the cave drops a few degrees as the two men stare each other down. Damian is the first to break.

“Fine! But I must remind everyone that Drake shouldn’t be taken lightly. My grandfather chose him as his successor for a _reason_.” The truth in Damian’s words hang heavy over everyone. Tim wasn’t the strongest or the fastest of the Robins. He wasn’t even the most skilled fighter. But he was a genius. It was scary how fast he could dismantle an enemy’s well thought out plans.

Stephanie had on several occasions found herself thankful Tim was on their side.

“We’ll stop him.” Bruce vows. “If we stay together.” After that everyone goes off into their own corner. Jason and Cass remains up in the manor with Alfred. Dick, who couldn’t take off the Batman suit fast enough, works on his Nightwing suit. Zatanna is off on her own, floating in the air. She said something about meeting with people who might be of help. Bruce and Constantine stay by the computer. Occasionally Constantine’s eyes drift over to Zatanna.

Damian stays the furthest away from everyone. He gives off the feeling that he wants to be alone. Normally she would respect that. Yet, she just can’t. His solemn face pulls her to him. He sits by a ledge, legs hanging over as he stares into the darkness below.

“Hey.” She takes a seat besides him, still giving him space. “I guess we’re not going to make it to trivia night.” Why did she say that? Hopefully Damian didn’t see her cringe. If he did, he showed no reaction. The silence stretches out between them. It makes her nervous which means it makes her talkative.

“Hopefully this gets solved before the spring gala. All that work that went into planning it. Say, did you ever get a costume?” Damian begins tossing small rocks into the void. “Damian?”

“I did.”

“Oh.” More rocks are tossed. Stephanie gathers a few around her, those out of reach to him. She creates a small pile for him. “You going as a Roman? Or Egyptian?”

He takes a rock from the pile. “Neither. I will be wearing a traditional outfit my ancestors would have worn back then.”

Ok, that was a complete sentence. That’s progress.

“I thought you could do the same.” He says as he tosses one more. “Colors are green and gold. Which would look lovely on you.”

“Thanks. I would like that.” Ok, she’s stalled enough. “Damian, I want you to know I’m not going anywhere.”

“Even if Drake returns. Your Drake?” Don’t hesitate. Answer, quickly!

“I know we haven’t been in this relationship long but I’m not walking away. I meant it when I said you weren’t alone in this. Or do you think I’m that fickle.” She moves closer to him.

“I . . . No. I just can’t compete with your history with Drak-” She kisses him. It’s a little awkward at this angle while trying to not fall off the ledge. Damian scoots back, pulling her with him and resumes the kiss. 

“I’m sorry. You were saying something.” She grins at him.

“Yes, something foolish it seems. I want you to know I am not the easiest person. I’ll make you mad, we probably will fight and you know I can be stubborn.” She kisses him again. He looks confused.

“Damian, that’s how a normal relationship works. It’s not going to be perfect and it will require work. By both of us. And I guarantee you I’ll make you mad. And I am famous for my stubbornness.”

“You sound proud of that.” She just winks at him. “We’re in this together.”

“Together.” Someone slow claps behind them. Jason, crouched down near them, has a stupid grin on his face.

“You kids are so cute. So tell me, when did this happen?”

“None of you damn business Todd.” Damian turns his back to Jason, snubbing him. It just makes him laugh.

“It is since I got a bet going with Dick. Been waiting a looooong time for the payout. So when did this start and who started it? Was it you Damian? I bet it was.”

“Seriously? A bet, don’t you two have something better to do?” She tries her best to glare at him but he’s completely immune.

“I’ve got plenty of time, as does everyone else. Since we’re all waiting for your ex to come and bump off your current boyfriend.” Something suddenly clicks in Damian. He whips around to face Jason.

“You were following us! The emergency call would have only gone to Grayson and Cass.” 

“And good thing too. I stopped him from killing you. You’re welcome by the way.” Damian rolls his eyes as he stands up. Stephanie and Jason follow suit. “And I was able to pick up that fancy little tech he dropped in that alleyway. Might prove useful. You’re welcome, again.” The two men size each other up and Stephanie half thought they might start throwing blows. Instead, Damian grabs her hand and pulls her away.

Jason yells at them. “Don’t forget to use protection, kids!” Damian picks up speed as Stephanie can feel eyes on them. She plots Jason’s demise as they flee towards the elevator.

Once safely behind the elevator doors does Damian finally speak. “I know where to hid his body.”

“No, we should make it look like an accident. An embarrassing one.” They plot their plan as they ride up to the manor. The place has an eerie feel to it under lockdown. One she tries to not focus on. Damian leads her up to the bedrooms and stops at her room.

“My offer from last night still stands.” Stephanie wants to say he looks cute right now but that word just doesn’t fit him. 

“I would actually like that.” She can’t stop the nervous laugh that escapes her. “Not really wanting to be alone right now. But can we share the bed? My arms are a bit tender. And I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. Not with your ribs still healing. You ok with that?”

“Of course. I can behave myself. If you can.” Stephanie has the suspicion Damian is a virgin and is nervous about advancing their relationship. Nothing wrong with that, especially in new relationships. From her experience it’s never good to rush. Stephanie regrets that she did at so young in age. Her first time could be described as: awful, awkward, clumsy and over before she knew it. 

There was no communication between her and her boyfriend at that time. They just felt like they should do it rather than wanting to do it. The reasoning was that they had dated exclusively for two months and their friends were teasing them about waiting. Questioning if their relationship was even real. So they gave in to peer pressure. They broke up shortly after that.

Tim was her next boyfriend after that and they took their time. Mostly because the city needed saving and she wasn’t 100% sure their relationship would last. And Stephanie could tell Tim felt the same way. Much like she can tell with Damian. So she will take his lead and go with his pace.

“I swear I will be on my best behavior.” She smiles as he leads her to his room.


	15. Mother Knows Best

Chapter Fifteen  
Mother Knows Best

So apparently Drake’s plan is to bore them to death. It has been two weeks since they fought him on that roof. Two weeks and nothing from him. His absence creates a thick cloud of uncertainty over them, keeping everyone on edge. By the fourth day Damian was ready to offer himself to Drake just for something to happen.

His father objected of course. But after two weeks, even his father grew frustrated and finally allowed him to travel to his apartment in the city. Of course it is a ploy to hopefully draw Drake out. Stephanie joins him, with her fully upgraded suit tucked away in a suitcase. The story to explain their long absence is that they have been sailing the Caribbean. 

She flicks through the vacation photos in her phone. Chuckling softly at them. She insisted on taking well over two dozen photos. Of course none are real, like their tan. They both had to spend time inside a tanning bed to help sell their story. Afterwards they did a photo shoot in the studio his father built for such events. With impressive holographic images they where able to creat realistic photos.

“I love how you have the same look in every photo.” She continues to flip through photos as he drives them to his apartment. “Oh! I found one where you could be accused of smiling.”

“I thought I was smiling in all of them.” He teases her.

“I can’t tell if you are being serious or not.” He doesn’t look at her, focusing on driving, but he smirks knowing she’s looking at him. It makes her laugh.

“I’m glad to see you working on your sense of humor. But in all seriousness, you could have smiled more.” Now he laughs. Stephanie has a way of making him do that.

“And ruin my dark and mysterious reputation?” He pulls the car into the private underground parking garage. The building is owned by his father and is just as secure as any safe house. 

“Heaven forbid.” With luggage in hand they head up to the apartment. To onlookers they look like a couple returning from a vacation. But the more observant would notice the slight tightness in their movements. They are on guard and remain so as they enter the apartment. They wait a few seconds in the front room just in case an unwelcome guest comes out of hiding.

When nothing happens Damian does a spot check of every room while Stephanie checks the security systems. They meet back in the main living area. Stephanie eyes the sword in his hand.

“So you train with all these swords?” She gestures towards his sword collection. Damian gives her his best ‘really?’ look.

Damian lifts the blade, checking the balance of it. Perfect. “Every weapon you see here is real. Especially the ones you don’t see.” Stephanie lifts a throw pillow up from the couch to look under it. “Close.” He slides a hand between the cushions to pull out a collapsible staff.

“Ooo, nice.” She takes it, releasing the staff and gives it a few good twirls. “I half expected you to only hide blades.” She returns the staff to its hidden spot.

“That wouldn’t be wise to keep blades where you sit. I have them elsewhere.” Damian puts his sword away and turns to the blonde. She’s checking underneath the couch for the other weapons. Damian decides now is a good a time as any. “Can we talk?”

Her head shoots up, hair tumbling over her face. She straightens it out as she stands, a worried look on her face.

“Yeah, sure. What’s on your mind.” Even though they’ve been stuck in the manor for two weeks and they shared a bed, platonically, they really haven’t spoken to each other. Not really at least. They’ve spoken around each other. Taking care to avoid certain topics and both have been hyper aware of those around them. 

But now that they are finally alone, he has some things he needs to get off his chest.

“Have you spoke to my father? About us?” Her eyes widen and she bites her lower lip.

“No, he hasn’t really spoken to me at all. Besides the normal pleasantries. Why did he speak to you?” She twirls a lock of hair as she speaks. “Did he say something?”

_”Are You serious about this relationship? This isn’t about your vendetta against Tim, is it? Because if it is. . . Stephanie doesn’t deserve that.”_

“He doesn’t have an opinion on the matter. Other than thinking I may not be serious.”

“That sounds like an opinion to me, Damian.” Now she sounds annoyed, dropping her hair to place her hands on her hips.

“He is worried I might have pursued you as a means to get back at Tim.” He watches for her reaction. Her face is surprisingly unreadable.

“The nerve of him! How is any of this his business?” Damian is about to respond when she continues, hands thrown up into the air. “And yes, you two had your differences and your fights could be verbally brutal.”

“I did break his arm shortly after meeting him.”

“Yeah, I remember hearing about that. Tim called you a little Hell demon. But you’re not that callow.” Actually he can be. During one of their many fights, Damian told Drake he could steal Stephanie from him. It was petty and he regretted it the moment the words came out. The rage that erupted from Drake, Damian had never seen in the young man before. A rage he experienced only again in that alleyway. 

“I’m glad you have such faith in me. But I had threatened Drake with stealing you.” She says nothing to that, arms crossing over her chest. “And I suspect this Drake heard something similar.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because I believe this Drake will tell you horrible things about me. I rather you hear them first from me. I wasn’t a good person when I was younger. I did almost go down a dark path. According to this Drake I did in his world.”

“Do you fear there’s a chance you could still go down that path?”

“Only a fool thinks they’re free from their own darkness. You never know what could trigger someone.”

“Damian, you’re not going to burn the city down. You may have been an egotistical brat who could be cruel but you’ve grown.” She steps closer to him, a hand brushing against his arm.

“Drake turned. Perfect, moral high ground Drake crossed my father’s number one rule. Out of all of us, can you honestly say you would have seen that happening?”

“No. I would think Jason would cross it first. Well, he actually did. But you won’t. I know this.” She grabs his shirt, tugging him close. “Because I would stop you.” Her eyes burn with determination and the threat is very much real. Stephanie would stop him. Could stop him. And in that moment, Damian knew he loved her.

Love. Strange, Damian had always wondered what it would feel like. Would the experience be like that expressed in novels? Like a shock to the system that would somehow enhance his vision? Or cause heart palpitations that would bring him to his knees? Apparently none of those things happened. Not even a lightning strike. 

Instead the thought came to him like it has always been there. As if his brain just caught up with his heart. The realization dawns on him slowly, that this person before him. This woman. He would do anything for her.

Not ready, or brave enough to reveal that truth, Damian strokes her hair.

“Of that I am sure.” She smirks at him as she gives his shirt a little tug.

“I’m serious, mister. Don’t underestimate me. I’ll kick your ass. But regardless, I don’t care what argument this Drake will try to make. Nothing justifies killing you.” Stephanie wraps her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “So no need to worry. We’ll kick this Tim’s butt and send him packing. Now, you hungry?” She pulls him to the kitchen and starts to look through the cupboards.

“You want to make something?” He keeps this place fully stocked so they could make a multitude of meals. “You will notice I do not own a microwave.”

“Not surprised. How about pasta with this?” She pulls out a jar of vodka sauce. He nods his agreement, enjoying how easy she just fits into his home. “Where’s the pasta?”

“Here.” He pulls down flower and takes out the pasta press. “Only fresh pasta is made in this home.” 

“Ooo, fancy-pansy.” And that is how Damian finds himself making homemade pasta. Even though the process takes longer with Stephanie’s help, he finds himself enjoying it. Forever the perfectionist, he would normally become upset at any mistakes. Yet Stephanie doesn’t beat herself up at the way the dough crumbles in the press. Instead she laughs it off and tries again. Each time getting better.

And, even with all the mistakes she made, it is the best tasting pasta he has ever had. Alfred truly was right. Being around people you love really does make the meal.

At the end of the meal they work together to clean up. Stephanie hums some tune as she washes and he drys. He swirls the dishcloth aimlessly around the bowl as his thoughts drift. A soapy plate waving near his face pulls him back.

“You ok?” Stephanie asks as he places the bowl down to take the plate.

“I cannot help but wonder why Drake helped us with the case. He saved us a lot of leg work by telling you about the hidden lab and dig site.”

“Right, and the fire he started saved me from a Lazarus goo body wrap. Even though you father said it was a watered down version, still don’t want that stuff on me.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s why he got involved. To save you.” They finish up with the dishes and retire to the living room, taking a seat on the plush couch. “I wonder how he knew. Are our worlds that linear?”

“Think he might know who told Dr. Po where to dig?” She tucks herself against his side as he drapes an arm over her. “Should we ask him before or after we punch him in the face?” That comment makes him kiss her temple.

“Or you could ask your mother?” A voice he hasn’t heard in a long time comes from behind them. They move as one, Stephanie pulls out the staff from the couch as Damian grabs for a sword. Talia looks board as she checks her nails. “Do you both feel better now? Can we talk?”

“Not unless you’ve come here to confess you’re the one behind Dr. Po.” Stephanie says. His mother barely gives her a passing glance.

“I came across the good doctor in Brazil. She was peddling her flowers as some miracle serum. The results then were promising. Healed light scarring. And that was just with her using live chickens.”

“So you thought using humans and Lazarus soaked soil would have better results?” Damian sneers at his mother. Angered at her heartlessness.

“The soil was my idea. The humans were Dr. Po’s. It seemed promising at first but it couldn’t bring people back to life like the pit. I cut ties with her two years ago and that’s when she found Goller.”

Stephanie looks to him for direction. But he doesn’t risk looking away from his mother. One can never predict what she will do.

“Why are you telling us this?” 

“I want your full focus on the threat at hand here. Not on who led who to some dirt. And also, can’t a mother check on her child?”

To show his distrust, Damian readies his sword. Talia clicks her tongue in annoyance.

“My love, I came here on my own. With no weapons.” But the woman is anything but defenseless. “I know who hunts you. I remember how much promise Timothy had. He reminded me so much of your father. Which is why I’m worried. And why I’m offering my support.”

“No.”

“Don’t be so quick to say no.” Damian lowers his sword and begins a staring contest with his mother. Stephanie shifts uncomfortably beside him.

“That long enough for you, mother?” He asks. “Because my answer hasn’t changed. No.”

“You’re not the least bit curious as to how I know?”

“Nora.” Damian has always suspected his assistant and by the look on his mother’s face he is correct. “If that is all you had to say? Leave. Now.”

“Wait!” To Damian’s surprise, Stephanie speaks up. “How would you help?” She cannot be serious! They’re not that desperate.

His mother looks at Stephanie as if finally noticing the blonde. She rewards Stephanie with a pleased smirk.

“I see my reports on you are off. You’re not as dumb as they say.” To Stephanie’s credit, she doesn’t take the bait. His mother smiles at Damian as she pulls out a thumb drive. “Here is everything your grandfather gathered on Timothy. You’ll find a psych evaluation, breakdown of the fighting techniques we taught him and an analysis of his strategies. Everything you will need to take him down. And of course you will have my assassins.”

“I assume you don’t want us to tell my father?” Talia glances out the window, no doubt knowing Nightwing is watching and listening.

“I could care less, honestly. I’m offering you intel on your enemy. You won’t be defeating Timothy the usual way you lot handle thugs. You will be facing someone trained by both your father and grandfather. And we know how you’ve faired against them.”

That hurt. That truth cuts deep into Damian. Stephanie speaks up for him.

“What’s the catch?” She asks. “Because nothing is free.” His mother looks Damian right in the eyes, gone her smirk, replace by all seriousness.

“When you defeat Timothy. I want you to take your place as the new leader of the League of Assassins.” She holds up a hand to stop any protesting. “I don’t expect an answer right now. But he is going to return so don’t take too long.” She tucks away the thumb drive. “When you do decide, let Nora know.”

The lights flicker and his mother is gone. Stephanie looks around the room cursing.

“I swear I checked the security system, there was nothing there.” She goes to recheck but Damian knows the results will be the same. Nothing will show up. He reaches for the com-link, expecting a call from Nightwing. Sure enough it comes in.

“You guys ok? I just got jumped by really hot ninjas.” Nightwing’s voice comes in. “Guess that means mother dearest stopped by a visit?”

“Yes.” Damian relays everything that had happened. Afterwards, Nightwing gives his unsolicited advice on his mother’s offer. Hell to the no. A direct quote.

But as things begin to settle down, Damian cannot help but wonder. His eyes move over to Stephanie, working on his security system, her focus on the screen. Damian cannot help but wonder if it might be worth it.

But could he leave Gotham? Leave the cowl behind? Because his father would never hand it over if Damian becomes the leader of the League of Assassins. Leave Stephanie? She would never acclimate to life among the assassins. Though the thought of her being by his side as he takes the thrown is appealing. Stephanie may underestimate herself but with the right training she would make a formidable assassin.

Yet, despite how much Stephanie protests his father, she is still rather dedicated to his mission. She would never agree to go with him.

Thinking of Stephanie, the blonde comes up beside him.

“Well, that was fun.” She tugs on his arm, pulling him away from the window and back to the couch. “Think we need that information? Your dad probably has something similar on Tim. Hell, he probably has something on all of us.” That’s true. Damian tried to hack the Batcomputer to see what contingency plan his father had for him. He never was able to get through the security.

Damian wonders why his father doesn’t have everything as locked down as those files.

He may not have seen his father’s contingency plans but he knows his grandfather. He would have trained Drake to defeat whatever his father had planned. His grandfather had an uncanny ability to see all possible weaknesses in any strategy. 

“Damian?” Stephanie’s voice pulls him back. He was too deep in his thoughts, there is no hiding that he’s considering it.

“It could prove useful. But I’m not going to take over for my grandfather. Especially not after the mess my mother probably made of it.”

“Probably? You think she’s trying to pass it over to you cause she messed up somehow?”

“There is a reason my grandfather was determined to get my father. And when that failed, he offered it to me, his grandchild. And every time his offer was denied he looked for someone else. Never at the daughter at his side. The League splintered when my grandfather died. Many didn’t believe she could lead. Because of this her faction is small and at war with the loyalist. She’s desperate to pull the two sides together.”

“And you at the helm would do that?” She sits close to him on the couch, fitting just perfectly beside him.

“I am the son of Batman and the grandson of the Demon Head. They would follow me.” Stephanie snuggles closer to him. Mouth to his ear, she whispers huskily.

“I know you’re talking about leading the assassins and that’s a no-no, but how you just said that? It was hot.” Maybe he was wrong about her? Maybe she wouldn’t be against it? She kisses him just below the ear before pulling back. “But if you do become an assassin, I will kick your ass. We can defeat Tim without it.”

“And if we can’t? Don’t underestimate Drake. This won’t be easy.”

“Yes, he always was a clever little punk. Loved the long game. But if it comes to that, we’ll have another chat with your mother and take that information.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” He muses.

“That’s because together we’re unstoppable.” Unstoppable. Damian wishes he shared her optimism.

**Six Years Ago**

Drake adjusts his tie in the mirror, back foolishly to the door. It creates an opportunity too good to pass up but Damian wasn’t born yesterday. He knows Drake is aware of him. Damian leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“How long are you going to keep up this farce? Before or after the honeymoon?” Drake watches him through the mirror, face a picture perfect of calm.

“It’s only been four days since the news of the engagement went out, Damian. I can’t just end it.” He turn to face Damian. “Especially since your League of Assassins is after Tam.”

“They’re not mine. Because I wouldn’t have them waste time with the girl.” He let’s the implication sink in. Drake doesn’t react and Damian’s annoyance builds.

“I suppose you’re right. But other than the involvement of the assassins, I don’t see how any of this is your business. Shouldn’t you be with the Teen Titans? Like leading them?”

“We’re on a break.” He repeats the words he over heard Drake spoke to Stephanie earlier. Memories of her storming off, face red and holding back tears flash in his mind. She fled the manor, leaving Drake in the foyer, cheek red from her slap. Drake had told his long time girlfriend that they were apparently on a break and that’s why he never mentioned Tam nor the engagement. By Stephanie’s reaction, the break was news to her. 

“So that was you lurking about. Never thought you for a stalker.” Tim makes to leave but Damian blocks him.

“You could have told her it was a cover. She would have understood.”

“Move Damian.” The threat in his tone makes Damian smirk. He’s finally getting to Drake.

“Unless you really meant it. That this isn’t a cover?” 

“This isn’t your business. Now move. Or be moved.” Tim makes the threat as he gets into Damian’s personal space. They square off against each other, neither backing down. That is until a voice floats over to them.

“Tim?” Tam asks as she walks up the stairs towards them. “Are you ready?” The two back down as Drake calls out.

“I’m coming Tam. Give me a few minutes?” Smiling brightly at the young woman as she comes closer. She stops when she sees Damian standing there, her eyes darting between them. “I’ll be down soon.”

She nods. “Ok, don’t be too long. We have cake tasting at one.” She spares them one last glance over her shoulder before heading back down the stairs. Drake turns on him, eyes cold.

“I will only say this one last time. Stay out of my business.” He turns away and Damian cannot help but call out to him.

“Does that include Stephanie?” Drake stops, his back stiff. “Since she’s no longer your business?”

“Damian.” Tim warns.

“I could do it you know. Especially now that you’ve broken her heart.” Rage burns behind Drake’s eyes. It gives Damian’s more practical side pause. But his childish side pushes onward. “She deserves better than yo-”

Tim moves faster than Damian thought possible, slamming him against the wall. His teeth rattle with the force and dots burst into his vision as Drake puts pressure on his throat. 

“I know that’s an empty threat. Because you’re fourteen and I know Stephanie would never. Ever. Be interested in a spoiled. Child!” Damian realizes in that moment, why his grandfather as taken such an interest in Drake. “But that’s not what has me so angry. What has me going is how much of an entitled prick you are. Ever since you showed up, you have acted like you have the right to take everything from me. My place as Robin, my team and now my girlfriend. Why, what have I ever done to you?”

With his air flow restricted, Damian feels himself beginning to pass out. But Drake has an impressive hold on him, pinning him to the wall. Drake finally lets him go, watching Damian crumble to the ground.

“I owe you nothing, Damian. Nothing. Stay out of my business and my life.” He leaves Damian there on the floor, humbled and more aware of what a threat Drake really is.


End file.
